


Black Hearts and Heroes

by KytheWolf



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fighting, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Attempted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, References to Depression, Secret Relationship, Superhero!Phil, supers au, supervillain!Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-03-31 11:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 25,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13973838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KytheWolf/pseuds/KytheWolf
Summary: Being a superhero is never easy, especially when you spend your spare time hooking up with the city’s biggest supervillain. While Phil is focusing all his attention on Dan, an even bigger threat is rising in the background, one which will force the unlikely couple to work together and open up to the public about what they really think of each other.





	1. Heart and Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Numberonephanboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numberonephanboy/gifts).



> Hi guys, this has been a long time coming but I'm really happy with how it's coming along and I hope you enjoy :)

The phone rang for only a second before Phil picked it up, hurriedly putting his glasses on to read the name; ‘Private Number’. Phil cleared his throat and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Mr Amazing, it’s him again!” a frantic voice greeted him. “The bank on Second Street!”

“On my way, Mr Mayor.”

Phil was in his super suit and out of the window within a minute.

As he flew to the bank, Phil’s heart began beating faster, his blood flowing with adrenalin for more than the rush of the fight.

When he arrived, he was met by a wide man in a too-small suit. “Mr Amazing, thank goodness you’re here,” the mayor cried, wringing his hand.

“Where is he?” Phil asked, his voice muffled slightly by the mask of his costume that hid his true identity.

“Inside,” the mayor answered simply, and Phil ran through the broken doors into the bank.

From the conspicuously neat trail of loose bank notes, Phil could quite easily guess where his nemesis had gone. He followed the trail to the back of the bank and was greeted by an open vault, the contents of raided deposit boxes spilling out, and standing in the middle of it all was _him_.

Blackfire; the most notorious villain in the city.

Dressed as usual in his distressed black bodysuit and knee-length black leather coat, with the fringe of his red-dyed hair swept off to one side, a ninja-style mask covering the lower half of his face and flame tattoos covering his neck and arms, Blackfire was carelessly tossing a gold ingot in one hand, looking as though he had all the time in the world. He looked up as Phil entered the room, grinning at the hero through his deep brown eyes.

“I was wondering how long you would take to get here, Mr Amazing” Blackfire said casually. “How much do you think this is worth?” he asked, dropping the ingot with a loud clang and resting one spiked leather boot on the rim of the vault door.

“Leave the valuables and get out of here, Blackfire,” Phil commanded theatrically, stepping forward.

A menacingly playful glint sparked in the villain’s eyes, indicating the smirk behind the mask. “Or what, pretty boy? Will you drag me out to the police and have them throw me behind bars? That won’t hold me.” To demonstrate, Blackfire held out his hand, which erupted in flames so hot Phil could feel them from across the room. “You of all people should know how heated I can get,” Blackfire said, slowly and deliberately.

Phil shook his head to clear it. “Get out of here, Blackfire,” he repeated, “or else I’ll be forced to _kick_ your ass out.”

Blackfire stalked forward like a cat coming to rub itself against its human’s legs. As the villain circled him slowly, Phil had to engage all the self-control he possessed to not react as Blackfire’s breath caressed his skin.

Just as Blackfire came around in front of him again, Phil’s sensitive ears heard someone enter the room behind him.

_An audience_ , he thought. _Alright, then. Let’s give them a show._

Using his super strength, Phil flew forward like a bullet, catching Blackfire and slamming him against the back wall of the vault so hard that the whole building shook. With one hand pinned against Blackfire’s gasping throat, Phil drew back the other in a fist to punch the villain, but Blackfire dissolved into flames just as Phil let his arm swing, and Phil suddenly found his hand buried in the metal wall of deposit boxes.

Blackfire reformed behind him as Phil pulled his fist out in a cascade of jewels. As he turned around to face the villain again, Blackfire pointed his hand and released a burst of flames straight at Phil’s face. Phil leaped to one side, twisting around to grab Blackfire by the collar of his jacket and rocketing upwards, punching a hole in the ceiling and carrying the villain high into the sky above the city.

Before Blackfire could even realise what was happening, Phil turned around mid-air and plummeted back towards the ground, the villain held in front of him.

“Time for your dramatic exit,” he whispered in Blackfire’s ear, and as they rushed back through the hole in the bank ceiling and hit the floor, the villain shattered into fragments of flame, leaving Phil crouching in the crater he had made in the marble floor.

Phil stood up and brushed off his hands, and the assembled crowd erupted into cheers. The mayor came forward and wrung his hand again, beaming.

“Thank you, Mr Amazing, you have once again defeated that wretched villain!” he cried happily.

“He will not stay defeated for long, Mr Mayor,” Phil grunted, “but you know how to contact me next time he is out causing havoc.”

And with that he flew back out of the hole in the ceiling, the applause ringing in his ears.

When Phil got within sight of his apartment building a few minutes later, he noticed a dark figure on the roof. As he got closer, he was able to distinguish the signature black coat and red hair of Blackfire.

The villain was watching his approach, and after a few moments he turned around and entered the building through the roof access door. Phil landed stealthily and followed.

At first glance, the stairwell seemed deserted, but when Phil began walking down the stairs a voice behind him said, “Hey, pretty boy.”

Phil turned to see Blackfire leaning casually against the wall at the top of the stairs, his hands in his pockets and one foot resting on the crumbling brickwork behind him. Phil removed his mask and walked back up the stairs, his face expressionless. Blackfire grinned at him mock-innocently, keeping easy eye contact as the hero approached him. Phil rested one arm against the wall next to Blackfire’s head, leaning in so that their faces were only a couple of centimetres apart.

“Hey, babe,” Phil murmured. “Hope I didn’t hit you too hard.”

Blackfire raised one hand to remove his own mask, and then moved forwards to place a kiss on Phil’s lips. “It wasn’t the hardest,” he muttered cheekily, a mischievous grin on his face. Phil raised his eyebrows, smirking.

“Want to take this downstairs?” he whispered, taking Blackfire’s hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

“Absolutely,” Blackfire smirked, following.

Phil opened the door to his apartment and slipped inside, quickly dragging Blackfire in behind him and closing the door again in case any of his neighbours happened to look. Once he had put the chain across, Phil turned around to look at Blackfire.

Or Dan, as Phil knew his real name to be.

Dan was standing behind him with a sly smile, and Phil immediately pushed him up against the wall and began attacking his neck with hot kisses. Dan groaned, running his fingers through Phil’s hair and down to the zip on the hero’s suit.


	2. Two Lives in One

When they broke apart, panting, there was a trail of discarded clothes littered from the front door to the bedroom: boots in black or green, thrown carelessly across the floor; a leather coat flung over the back of the sofa; a belt hanging from the door handle like a dead snake warning ‘do not enter’; two bodysuits, crumpled by haste, one black and ripped, the other blue with a red letter ‘A’.

They lay there, grinning, for several minutes, Phil’s arm behind Dan’s head and Dan’s flung across Phil’s chest. They both jumped as Phil’s phone buzzed on the bedside table, breaking the silence. Phil reached across and picked it up, then his eyes widened and he scrambled out of bed with a muttered “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” Dan asked, suddenly finding the older man gone and sitting up to watch him tug his boxers back on before rummaging haphazardly in the wardrobe.

“I’m late for work,” Phil answered quickly, pulling his uniform shirt out and putting it on, his frantic fingers fumbling with the buttons. “That was my colleague texting to ask where I am.”

“Oh, I see,” Dan drawled, sinking back into the mattress. He watched as Phil pulled on his trousers and then sat down on the edge of the bed to wrench his socks on (mismatched, as always), and then Dan climbed out of bed and went to retrieve his bodysuit from where it had been discarded the night before. Phil kissed him, and then grabbed his keys and phone from the bedside table.

“See you tomorrow?” he asked, pulling his coat on. Dan smiled at him cheekily.

“Of course, Mr Amazing-in-bed.”

Phil grinned at him as he closed the apartment door, locking it behind him.

*

Once Dan was dressed, he dissolved into flames and drifted out of the open window, re-solidifying a few minutes later in the shadows beside a sketchy-looking building in the suburbs. The windows were broken and boarded up, and the metal door was almost completely hidden by ivy. Dan’s hand burst into flames, and he pressed it against the cracked brickwork to one side of the door. The electronic lock clicked, and the metal creaked inwards.

Dan strode down the dark corridor, hearing the door slam behind him and his own footsteps ringing metal on metal. Suddenly, the doors on one side opened to reveal PJ, Dan’s minion, looking very distressed.

“Sir, where have you been?” PJ called, almost tripping over himself in his haste to reach Dan. “You’ve been gone for _three days!_ I was worried sick, why didn’t you answer any of my calls? And then your fight with Mr Amazing at the bank last night…” PJ shook his head in disbelief. “Why did you do it? I thought we had agreed that all attacks must be _planned!_ We can’t expect to get anywhere through spontaneous side missions!” PJ paused to breathe. “ _Where have you been?_ ” he repeated.

“I needed some time to myself, PJ,” Dan explained forcefully, pushing past his minion and walking towards another door that opened into his bedroom.

“But why attack the _bank_? You didn’t even _take_ anything, but they’ll be alert for us now!”

“PJ, have you forgotten your place?” Dan’s voice was dangerously soft as he spun around to face his minion, his stony gaze challenging. As he turned back into his room, he heard PJ’s grudging voice behind him.

“No, sir.”

“Good. Now, leave me alone.” Dan moved to flop onto his bed, and after a moment of silence, PJ walked away down the corridor. Once the sound of his footsteps had died away, Dan stood up again and left his room, glancing over to check that PJ was definitely gone before crossing over to another door, which opened into a large room lit up with the blue light from a full wall of computer monitors displaying everything from security footage of various important buildings around the city to cute internet videos of puppies.

Dan strode over and pulled a keyboard towards him, typing quickly until one of the screens was replaced with a security feed from the local stationary shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm going to aim to update every Wednesday and Saturday, but bear with if I'm late as I do have my GCSEs in less than two months so I do need to do some revision as well


	3. A Plot-Devicey Way To Show Backstory

Phil hurried into the stationary shop, casting an apologetic glance at his colleague, Chris, as he went into the back room to dump his coat. When he emerged a moment later, he crossed over to the checkout where Chris was serving a customer.

“Have a nice day.” Chris handed the customer their bag and turned to Phil with a frown on his face. “Where have you been?” he asked.

“Sorry, I overslept,” Phil lied, unconsciously fixing his fringe.

Chris sighed. “Well, at least you’re only forty minutes late this time. There was a delivery this morning, but I haven’t had chance to unpack it as I had to be out here,” he added.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort it,” Phil offered, heading back into the storeroom. As he went about unpacking the delivery, Phil’s body switched to autopilot and his mind wandered down a road of memories.

Phil had first discovered his powers on his eighteenth birthday, when he had tripped and fallen off the balcony at his parents’ apartment only to find himself _hovering_ thirty feet above the ground. Granted, he had had a few drinks that evening, but even sober Phil had never been the most co-ordinated person, and it was still a rather ridiculous way to discover you have superpowers.

Phil hadn’t told anyone, even his parents or brother, but he had started experimenting with using his powers for good. He had even made his own super suit by hand. By the time he moved out of his parents’ apartment, lots of people were talking about the mysterious hero and who he might be. That, essentially, was why Phil had decided to move away: too many people asking awkward questions.

When he had moved to the new city, Phil had been strongly considering dropping his superhero ‘hobby’ to avoid anyone finding out the truth. But that was before he heard about Blackfire.

Phil had been walking home from work one night when he had passed an electronics shop, the TVs in the window displaying a news broadcast of the villain terrorising a fairground. Without thinking, Phil had ducked into the nearest alley, changed into his super suit and shot off towards the fairground.

He had arrived in the midst of screaming crowds and flaming debris. As Phil flew over their heads, the people looked up at him in amazement, some even cheering as Phil scanned the wreckage for Blackfire. He had spotted the villain standing atop the burning remains of the Ferris wheel, shooting streams of flame over the heads of the crowd and laughing maniacally. When he saw Phil approaching, Blackfire had stopped dead and stared at him, watching as he landed on the ground below the fallen Ferris wheel.

“What’re you doing here, fancy pants?” Blackfire had called down, his long black coat flapping in the night wind like the wings of a giant bat.

Phil had puffed up his chest, hoping he looked more confident than he felt. The crowds paused to watch as he answered, “I’m here to stop you!”

Blackfire had started laughing, a cold, harsh sound that sent icy fingers spidering up Phil’s spine. Several moments passed, enough time for Phil to feel awkward, before Blackfire stopped abruptly, his hard gaze fixed on Phil’s masked face.

“This is my territory, _hero_ ,” he sneered. “I’ll do what I want. Now, move along.” He made shooing motions with his hands, and as he flicked them towards Phil a ball of fire shot out of his fingers, rushing towards Phil like a bullet. Phil dived clumsily behind an overturned game stall, and the fireball exploded on the tarmac behind him, sending shrapnel embers punching through his cape.

Blackfire let out another guffaw. “Ha! You see this, ladies and gentlemen?” he called sarcastically to the watching crowds. “Look at this _lionheart_! Do you really think _he_ can save you from _me_?”

Phil, meanwhile, had been gathering his strength and courage, and he suddenly burst out from behind the stall and flew towards Blackfire, punching him in the stomach so hard that the villain hurtled backwards and slammed into a concrete wall, sliding to the ground and slumping over. Phil floated over, his fists clenched, and was surprised to see Blackfire’s blazing eyes betraying a crazed grin when the villain lifted his head to look Phil in the face.

“Oh, very good,” Blackfire coughed, struggling to his feet and brushing the concrete dust off his bodysuit; Phil _obviously_ hadn’t noticed how perfectly it clung to the villain’s slender frame, or how perfect Blackfire’s skin had looked in the light of the burning fairground. Giving himself a mental slap, Phil grabbed Blackfire by the neck and lifted him off the ground (but only a couple of inches; Blackfire was just as tall if not taller than him).

Blackfire shivered, his eyes dimming from forest fire to gentle hearth. He raised one arm and patted Phil’s hand around his throat. “I hope you stick around, hero,” he had whispered seductively. “You’d make a fun plaything.”

Smiling at the shocked expression in Phil’s eyes, the villain had exploded into a hundred shards of flame and vanished, leaving Phil with one hand outstretched and a few more burn holes in his super suit.

Phil had been startled out of his reverie by the sounds of sirens in the distance, and a young boy calling out to him; “That was amazing, mister!”

Phil had smiled with relief as the crowd burst into applause, and watched as a large man in a too-small suit ambled up to him, accompanied by several others.

“Thank you, hero! You have saved us from this terrible villain!” The man, who Phil had later found out was the mayor, had shaken his hand, and as hundreds of cameras flashed in the background, he asked loudly, “What do we call you, hero?”

Phil had paused for a second, thinking, and then said proudly, “I am Mr Amazing.” Yes, it was cheesy and cliché, but Phil didn’t care. He had a new purpose.


	4. Hear My Plea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: this chapter contains a brief, non-graphic reference to attempted suicide

Phil had been making coffee in his apartment the next day when something hitting the window made him jump, spilling his drink. Phil quickly cleaned himself up and crossed over to open the window. As he slid the pane up, a piece of paper had blown in, and Phil bent over to pick it up.

It was the front page of a newspaper, slightly charred around the edges, with the headline _‘Amazing New Hero In Town’_ above a photo of Phil shaking hands with the mayor. Stuck to the newspaper was a post-it note.

_Hey, hero_ , the note had said,  
 _Before you decide I’m your enemy, let me explain something to you so that you can judge me based on the whole story. Meet me on the roof of the abandoned apartment building on Manchester Street at midnight.  
I hope you will give me a second chance,  
Blackfire_

Phil had been confused; why did the villain think he would take that bait? This was obviously a trap.

And yet…

Phil remembered the gentle look in Blackfire’s eyes, and the way he had whispered in Phil’s ear, sending sparks across Phil’s skin.

Deciding that he would meet Blackfire at midnight, Phil gulped the last of his coffee and went to get dressed for work.

*

At first glance, the roof seemed deserted when Phil had arrived at the meeting place. He walked to the edge and looked around at the city, still busy even at this hour.

“You came.”

Phil turned towards the voice. Blackfire was standing about five metres behind him, maskless, his face expressionless but his eyes betraying a spark of excitement.

Phil had been silent for a moment, staring at Blackfire, trying not to notice how amazing the villain looked in the Moonlight: the perfect shape of his jawline; his soft lips; his sharp, red, emo fringe bleached soft and silver; shadows showing every contour through his bodysuit…

Phil cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said stupidly. Then, trying to regain his composure, “Why did you summon me here?”

Blackfire didn’t speak. Instead, he walked past Phil to sit on the edge of the roof with his legs hanging and indicated for Phil to sit next to him. Phil did so cautiously, alert for any tricks the villain might pull, but Blackfire’s mind seemed elsewhere.

After a minute, Blackfire had spoken.

“I’ve lived in this city my whole life,” he began. “When I was younger, I was bullied in school; I had no friends. At home, my parents never cared. I would tell them about the bullies, and they would just tell me to man up and deal with it myself. I could never tell anyone my problems, so I kept them locked up inside, and they kept growing.” Blackfire sighed and paused, not looking at Phil.

Phil had been shocked; the man sitting next to him was nothing like the villain he had fought last night. Blackfire’s evil, destructive outer shell had burned away to reveal the nervous, insecure man hiding beneath. Granted, it could have been a trap to lure him into a false sense of security, but Phil sensed no untruth in Blackfire’s voice.

“When I was sixteen, I couldn’t take it anymore,” Blackfire had continued after a moment. “One night, I was home alone, and I… I set a fire in my room, and I just let it spread.” Blackfire gulped. “Eventually I passed out, and when I woke up I had these powers; I _was_ fire. And I just… floated away.” Blackfire smiled slightly. “It was the best feeling in the world, being free. I saw later that they thought I’d died but they hadn’t found my body, and I thought, ‘let them believe I’m dead’. I created a new identity for myself; one that people would fear.”

Silence fell between them.

“Why did you tell me this?” Phil had asked gently, after a few moments.

Blackfire had hesitated, then turned to look Phil in the eyes, brown meeting blue. “I’ve never heard of anyone else with powers,” Blackfire murmured. “I don’t like being alone. I want us to come to an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” Phil asked.

“I want us to be friends,” Blackfire said, “but I understand that we both have our reputations to keep; I need them to fear me, and you need to be accepted by them. So I thought, when we do ‘fight’, we make it more like a performance; for the public, to keep them happy. Then when we’re alone, we can… you know, be friends?” Blackfire had looked at him uncertainly, waiting for his answer.

Phil smiled. “Yeah, ok,” he agreed. As Blackfire grinned with relief, Phil added, “If we’re gonna be friends, can I ask what your real name is?”

Blackfire paused for a moment, then nodded and held out his hand. “Dan. You?”

Phil removed his mask and shook Dan’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Dan. Call me Phil.”

They had smiled at each other, hardly noticing that their hands stayed linked for a few seconds longer than was necessary.


	5. Come Home With Me

Phil was jolted back to the present by Chris’s voice from the checkout; “Hey, Phil, could you man the till for a minute and I’ll go grab us some coffees?”

“Yeah, ok, sounds good.” Phil crossed over to take Chris’s place at the checkout. “I could do with some caffeine.”

Chris grinned, grabbing his wallet. “Usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

As Chris left, Phil started helping the next customer, glancing at the clock as he scanned the items; only a couple more hours left.

*

Over the next few weeks, Phil and Dan had quickly become best friends, meeting up several times per week. These meetings had become a lot more casual than their first one had been, as they both wore normal clothes to avoid attracting attention; both in black skinny jeans, Phil in a colourful shirt or soft jumper, and Dan in a black T-shirt and a leather jacket.

They had also gradually learned more about each other: Phil learned that Dan had a sidekick/minion called PJ, who didn’t know about their friendship and who Dan would prefer to keep in the dark about it; Dan learned that Phil worked at the stationary shop, but found it tedious; and so on and so forth.

About ten days after their initial friendly meeting, Phil had invited Dan back to his apartment, as the night was cold and they couldn’t risk Dan lighting a fire in case someone saw them. Or at least, that’s what he’d told Dan.

When they had arrived on the roof of Phil’s building and safely made their way into Phil’s apartment, Phil, like the nervous nerd he was, suggested they played a video game, and Dan, after rifling through Phil’s collection, had suggested Mario Kart.

They had flopped on the sofa and loaded up the game, and even after just the first race, it became clear to Phil that Dan spent _way_ too much time playing video games; he was unbelievably good, winning the race within a couple of minutes and leaving Phil in the dust at a measly seventh place. But Phil wasn’t too bothered about losing; he was mainly thinking about how to tell Dan the real reason he’d invited the younger man over.

After yet another race ended in a win for Dan, Phil had yawned and stretched, his T-shirt riding up his stomach slightly, and suggested a pause in the games. Dan smirked slightly and put down his controller, turning in his seat so that he was facing Phil.

“Are you a sore loser?” Dan had asked mockingly, grinning. Phil shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips.

“No, it’s not that, I don’t mind losing,” Phil had murmured, skimming through the jumbled thoughts in the blender of his mind, picking out the clearer bits, wondering how much he could say.

“What is it, then?” Dan asked, frowning slightly.

Phil took a deep breath, and after a minute he spoke.

“I really like having you as a friend and spending time with you, and I really like you as a person.” Phil took another breath and closed his eyes. “But… I… I really like you, Dan… like, as more than a friend, and…”

Phil was abruptly cut off by something covering his mouth, and in his confused state it took him a moment to realise that it was Dan’s lips. In that instant, waves of happiness flooded his chest, threatening to drown him as he raised one hand to cup Dan’s cheek, pulling the younger man in closer and kissing him back. It had been the best moment of Phil’s life, feeling sparks shooting across his skin, although whether they were metaphorical or Dan’s powers Phil didn’t know… didn’t care… didn’t want to…

After several hours that lasted only a couple of seconds, they pulled apart, grinning and panting slightly with exhilaration. Dan sat back on his heels nervously and whispered, “I really like you too.”

Phil shuffled forward to kiss him again, and Dan leaned in to meet him. Within a few minutes, they were full-on making out on the sofa, Dan lying almost on top of Phil, with the paused game flashing forgotten in the background.

Eventually, Phil pulled back slightly and murmured in Dan’s ear, “D’you want to stay the night?”

“Mm,” Dan muttered, “I’d love to.”

With some difficulty, they extricated themselves from the couch, and Phil showed Dan through to the bathroom before returning to the lounge and turning off the console, TV and lights. Then he went back into the bedroom to get undressed.

A couple of minutes later Dan shuffled in, wearing only his boxers with his clothes bundled in his arms.

“I didn’t have anything to change into,” Dan murmured apologetically, indicating his lack of clothing, “is this ok?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Phil said hurriedly, too busy staring at Dan’s exposed body, tracing his eyes along the slender limbs, the toned muscles, the flat stomach.

Dan dumped his clothes on the chair in the corner that Phil indicated, and then climbed under the covers next to him, wrapping his strong arms around Phil’s chest and pressing his body tightly against the older man.

Phil reached over to turn the lamp off, putting his other arm around the younger man’s shoulders, and the two of them lay in the comfortable and silent darkness.

“Phil?” Dan whispered after a few minutes, his voice edged with tiredness.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” Dan yawned, laying his head against Phil’s neck. Phil grinned into the darkness, his fingers tracing small circles in the skin on Dan’s back.

“I love you too.”


	6. What Can Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bonus upload because I kinda want to get to the juicy bits.

Chris set a takeaway cup on the desk next to Phil’s hand, the sharp tap once again knocking him back to the present.

“Thanks,” Phil yawned, picking it up and taking a sip.

“Any issues while I was gone?” Chris asked, taking a swig from his own cup.

“Nah, everything was fine,” Phil replied.

Chris moved back into his position behind the checkout to serve the next customer, leaving Phil free to continue where he’d left off unpacking the boxes.

The rest of the day passed with few customers and fewer conversations. Finally, the last customer left and Phil and Chris began closing up the shop. They put the money from the till in the safe, grabbed their coats and bags from the back room, turned off the lights and swapped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ before locking the door and pulling down the grille. Then, the two of them walked down the street together, hands in pockets against the biting cold.

“Did you hear about Blackfire breaking into the bank?” Chris asked, breaking the silence.

“Uh, yeah,” Phil muttered, averting his eyes.

“And Mr Amazing beat him up again.” Chris grinned. “I heard they’ve spent all day trying to fix a hole in the roof where he busted through. I swear, Mr Amazing caused more damage fighting Blackfire than Blackfire did breaking in in the first place.”

Phil allowed himself a strained smile. “Yeah…”

A couple of minutes later, they paused in front of Chris’s apartment building. “Bye, Phil,” Chris said, climbing the steps to the front door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, bye,” Phil called, already walking away.

He always tried to avoid conversations about Mr Amazing and Blackfire; he was too scared that he would say more than he was supposed to know, and someone would make the connection. Phil was terrified of anyone finding out, and what that would mean for him and Dan.

When he entered his apartment, Phil’s phone buzzed, making him jump. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was a message from Dan:

_How was work? x_

Phil smiled as he hung up his coat and wandered towards the kitchen, head down as he replied: _Not bad. Boring, as usual x_

Phil flicked the kettle on and glanced down at another buzz.

_You looked distracted ;P_

Phil raised one eyebrow. _Were you watching the security footage again? x_

_Maybe ;P_

_You sneaky little shit smh XD_

_I don’t’ like being away from you but pj’s suspicious enough as it is so im gonna just hang around here for a few days x_

_No problem babe x just stay out of trouble until I next see you ;P_

_Who, me? When am I ever in trouble? ;P  
What were you thinking about at work?_

_Just about when we first met. I can’t believe it’s been almost three years._

_Ikr, holy shit we’re all dying XD  
Pj’s coming back gtg ttyl x_

_Ttyl x ily <3_

_Ily2 xx_

*

Dan threw his phone back on the desk and snatched up a games controller as PJ walked in, having already switched the screen away from the stationary shop’s security feed and onto a console once Phil was out of sight of the camera.

PJ crossed over to one of the monitors at the far end of the bank and began typing, muttering to himself and glancing around at various other screens.

Dan watched him in silence for a moment before saying loudly, “What’re you doing, PJ?”

The younger man jumped, fumbling the mouse and dropping it on the floor with a plastic clatter.

“Uh, nothing, sir,” PJ stuttered, scrambling to pick up the mouse. “Just… checking some things. I didn’t realise you were in here.”

“Clearly,” Dan muttered, returning his attention to the game.

PJ left again, shooting an unseen look of annoyance in the direction of Dan’s turned back before closing the door behind him.


	7. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting to the beef :)  
> Next update will be tomorrow as normal

Mayor Peters adjusted the picture on his desk and leaned back in his leather chair, looking out of the window contentedly. The photo had been cut from a newspaper almost three years ago, and showed a much younger looking version of himself shaking hands with Mr Amazing after the hero had first shown up and defeated Blackfire.

The phone rang, and the secretary’s voice came over the speaker.

“Mr Barrack is here to see you, sir.”

“Send him in.”

A few moments later, there was a knock on the door and a thin man with salt-and-pepper hair entered, followed by three or four others.

“Mayor Peters,” the man said, holding out his hand. The mayor shook it.

“Mr Barrack. Please, take a seat.” Mayor Peters indicated the chairs in front of his desk. As Mr Barrack and his companions sat down, he added, “How can I help you?”

“We are here to raise our concerns about the villain known as Blackfire,” Barrack began promptly. “As you know, we are the biggest company in the city, and we have many investments, but Blackfire’s destructive attacks are costing us greatly.”

“He has caused unacceptable amounts of damage to public and private property, and many businesses are losing money because of him,” one of Barrack’s companions, a woman with a cold grey suit and even colder eyes, chimed in. “He must be stopped.”

Mayor Peters sighed. “Gentlemen, and women, I see where you’re coming from, honestly I do, but what do you expect me to do about it? Get rid of him?”

Peters had meant it sarcastically, but Barrack inclined his head in acknowledgement. “In a way.”

Peters gulped and turned away, running his fingers through his hair. “And how do you expect me to do that? The man can _dematerialise into flames!_ ”

Barrack turned as one of the men behind him stepped forward to speak. “Our scientists have discovered a new material that we believe will be capable of containing and even neutralising his powers. With this technology, we can ensure that he never attacks anyone again.”

“We also have reason to believe that Mr Amazing is not totally against Blackfire,” Barrack continued. “We have noticed, and we’re sure you will have as well, that Mr Amazing has never made any attempt to stop Blackfire indefinitely, only defeat him at each individual battle, many of which Blackfire leaves of his own accord without even a warning. Now, obviously Mr Amazing would have no purpose if Blackfire was gone, so this is understandable to a degree, but we must think of the consequences of this sentimentality. We have to consider this from a business perspective.”

Peters blinked, thinking. After a minute, he said, “But how will you catch him? Surely…”

“As my colleague has told you,” Barrack interrupted, “we have developed the means necessary to hold him.” He bent down to retrieve a piece of paper from his briefcase, which he slid across the desk towards the mayor. “We only need him to show himself, to give us the opportunity. Next time he launches an attack, we will be ready to leap in and trap him. Once we have Blackfire contained, this,” Barrack tapped the paper, “can be our next step.”

Peters’ eyes widened as he scanned the document, and then narrowed as he looked back at Barrack’s expectant face – and nodded.


	8. Dark Flames and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the super spicy bits now. I'm not sure when the next update will be (whether next Wednesday or sooner), but I hope you're all enjoying this fic, let me know your thoughts either in the comments or on Tumblr @ky-thewolf (new url)

A few days later, Phil received another call from ‘Private Number’. He picked up, unsurprised; Dan had been cooped up in his lair for almost a week to avoid making PJ any more suspicious than he might already be, so Phil really didn’t blame him for losing his patience.

“Hello?”

“Mr Amazing, he’s at the museum!”

“On my way.”

When Phil arrived at the scene, people were streaming down the front steps like a panicking river; several police cars and fire trucks were gathered, ant-like firemen trailing hoses through the doors as they fought the growing fire, and cops herded the public to safety; smoke was rising from somewhere deep within the building; and there, perched like a leathery bird of prey atop the highest tower, was Blackfire; long, laser-like tendrils of flame rushing from his hands and ripping through the fabric of the old building.

Phil flew straight towards Dan, and when he got within about ten metres Dan turned to face him, but the look in his eyes was far from the gentle hearth that Phil was so used to; Blackfire’s eyes were a furious forest fire, the kind that annihilates everything in its path and storms on past without a second thought for the destruction it leaves behind…

Phil slammed into Dan, knocking him off his high vantage point and crashing through the flame-weakened roof and wooden floors into a display room far below on the ground floor.

Dan writhed out of Phil’s grip, scrabbling frantically to get away from the feeling of restraint and rolling onto his feet, his black form silhouetted against the grey sky visible through the hole in the busted ceiling.

As Phil stood up, Blackfire growled like a cornered animal and backed away with eyes vacant of recognition fixed on Phil’s face. Phil put out a cautious hand towards Dan, but Blackfire flinched away.

“Dan, calm down.” Phil sensed now that this was not just another one of their ‘fights’; something was wrong, and Dan needed him. “Dan, it’s me, it's Phil. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Phil took another tentative step closer, and this time Dan didn’t back away.

“What’s the matter? Dan, what’s going on?”

“We must have it.” Dan’s voice was husky and urgent. “Take the weapon… take this city… destroy them all…”

“Dan…”

At that moment, the door burst open and armed soldiers flooded in, taking both Dan and Phil by surprise. They were all dressed in black, full-body, heat-proof suits, and the man in front quickly hefted his weapon and shot a heavy metal net at Dan, which covered his whole body and knocked him to the ground with a scream.

Phil stood, shocked, as the men rushed forwards and hauled Dan roughly to his feet, reaching through the holes in the net to fix his hands behind his back with a pair of chunky electronic handcuffs made from what looked like the same dark metal as the net.

The soldiers pulled the net off Dan and shoved him towards the door, his breath coming short and panicked as he fought to get out of the handcuffs.

Phil desperately wanted to shout to Dan, tell him to _dissolve into flames and go!_ , but he couldn’t do that without exposing his true feelings for Dan, and he wouldn’t let himself do that. Instead, Phil followed the soldiers as they led Dan through the entrance hall of the museum, out of the front doors and down the front steps to where the mayor was waiting with a thin, grey-haired man wearing a dark blue suit.

“Ah, Blackfire.” Mayor Peters smiled coldly as the other man moved around him towards Dan to examine the handcuffs. “So glad you could join us. I think it’s time you paid for all the damage you’ve caused, don’t you?”

“Yes,” the other man agreed, stepping backwards and nodding to the men flanking Dan. “Get him in the van.”

Dan shivered violently as the men forced him towards the waiting van, fighting against them and letting out yells of distress. As he was thrown in, Dan glanced over his shoulder and caught Phil’s eye for the briefest moment before the doors were slammed shut in his face.

Mayor Peters turned to Phil, who was standing a few metres back and watching the events unfold with shock.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Mr Amazing,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, “but you must understand that he has to be stopped.”

“Wh-what is that stuff?” Phil asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice. “What are those handcuffs made from?”

The other man stepped forward. “That is a new material our scientists discovered that has the ability to contain Blackfire’s powers. I’m John Barrack, by the way,” he added, holding out his hand to shake Phil’s.

Phil ignored the offered hand and instead stared at the van imprisoning Dan as it was shaken slightly by something inside banging against the side. “What’s going to happen to him?”

Barrack lowered his hand. “Well, first he will be tried for his crimes, and once he is convicted he will be given a sentence…” A sadistic smile stole its way onto the businessman’s face. “I imagine for life.”

Phil was shocked. _No, this couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t lock Dan up, especially not for life; Phil would never see him again…_

“I-is that really necessary? I mean, couldn’t you just let him off with a warning, or…”

“Careful, Mr Amazing,” Barrack interrupted in a dangerously quiet voice. “You wouldn’t want people to think you were _defending_ Blackfire, would you? Wouldn’t want people thinking you actually _cared_ about him…?”

 _Was that a threat? Could he know? No, surely that was impossible…_ Phil stared at Barrack, and his blood chilled as more pounding shook the van, accompanied by heart-wrenching, inhuman screeches.

“I understand that this leaves you in an awkward situation, Mr Amazing.” Mayor Peters spoke as though the last few seconds hadn’t happened. “With Blackfire contained, you may believe that there is no longer a reason for you to stick around, but this is not the case. I’m sure we will be able to find plenty more work for you, don’t you think, Mr Barrack?”

“Yes,” Barrack agreed, looking Phil up and down like a predator deciding where to sink its teeth in. “We will definitely have uses for you.”


	9. Fallen From Freedom

The clouds faded from Dan’s mind, and he was able to think clearly again. In his confused haze, he thought he heard Phil’s voice nearby, but muffled as though there was something between them.

Dan’s vision cleared, and he found himself in a small, metal room. He tried to move his arms to burn his way out but found he couldn’t: metal bands around his wrists…

Dan closed his eyes and tried to dissolve into flames and be free again, but when he opened them he was still sitting in the small, metal room with his hands fixed behind his back. Dan started hyperventilating as he began to panic: he hated being restrained, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe; the walls were closing in…

Dan kicked out at the wall, leaving only an insignificant dent instead of the smouldering hole he had intended. Dan tried to slow his breathing, managing to calm down enough to think of a way to lessen the pressure. Shakily, he stood up and lowered his hands so that he could step over them, moving his arms in front of him and examining his restraints.

The handcuffs were made from a dense, dark metal, with a line of small green lights along each cuff. Dan focused on setting his hands alight, but nothing happened except a draining feeling spreading along his arms and up towards his chest and face. The feeling of panic took hold of his throat again and his breathing sped back up, and out of sheer desperation Dan threw himself against the doors, unable to speak but forcing out scream after distressed scream, eventually exhausting himself and collapsing on the floor as he heard Phil’s voice for a brief moment before it was drowned out by the rumbling of the van that was taking Dan away from him.

*

Phil didn’t go back to his apartment for the rest of that day. As soon as the van with Dan inside was out of sight, he had flown off to the abandoned building on Manchester Street where they had first become friends, and sat with his legs over the edge of the roof and his head in his hands, an empty feeling eating him up inside like a dry water bottle in the desert reminding him how thirsty he was.

_How could this have happened? They couldn’t really keep Dan locked up forever, could they? What were they going to do to him?_ A hailstorm of questions pounded around Phil’s mind.

The Sun dyed the sky blood red and sank behind the buildings, and only after the last of the colour had faded into a starless black did Phil pick himself up and drift back to his apartment, hardly caring if anyone saw him as he let himself in.

Phil ignored the light switch and stumbled through to his bedroom in the dark, flopping face down on his bed without bothering to undress. Within minutes, he had fallen into an uncomfortable and restless sleep.

The next morning, it took Phil a few moments to remember why he felt so empty inside. Hoping to distract himself, Phil wandered into the living room and turned on the TV, collapsing on the sofa only to be greeted by a news reporter standing outside the museum, giving a report on yesterday’s events as police and security guards ran around behind her.

“Yesterday afternoon, the villain known as Blackfire broke into the museum and set parts of the building on fire in what appears to have been a robbery,” she was saying. “Although authorities were able to capture and arrest him, various artefacts from the exhibits on robotics and nuclear power were discovered to be missing early this morning, along with one of the museum’s newest acquisitions: a very rare object from ancient Egypt known as the ‘Curse-Stone’…”

A photograph of it flashed up on the screen: a small oblong of sandy red rock engraved with dense rows of tiny hieroglyphs.

“Whether these objects were taken by an accomplice of Blackfire’s or just someone taking advantage of the distraction, investigators are unsure,” the reporter continued, “but so far no traces have been found of the thief…”

“PJ,” Phil muttered, remembering what Dan had said; _We must have it… take the weapon… take this city… destroy them all…_

_But that wasn’t Dan talking… so what had happened? Had PJ done something to him?_

Phil was jolted from his thoughts when he heard the reporter say his name.

“We have some shocking new evidence that suggests Mr Amazing is not truly the hero we all believed him to be,” the reporter was saying. “After he turned up to fight Blackfire like he usually does, Mr Amazing knocked Blackfire through the roof and out of sight of the watching crowds, but fortunately for us the room they landed in still had functioning CCTV cameras, and what they captured will surprise you…”

Phil’s mouth went dry as the grainy footage came up on the screen. He saw Dan struggle out of his arms, saw himself reaching out consolingly towards Dan, heard his own voice distinctly; _“Dan, it’s me, it’s Phil, I’m not gonna hurt you”_ …


	10. The Man Who Killed Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains strong language.

Phil stopped listening after that. Instead, he buried his face in his hands and let all emotion flow out of him.

After several minutes, he sat up and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, giving himself a mental slap as he did so. _Why did I tell myself I couldn’t show my true feelings for Dan?_ he asked himself, _Fuck them, who_ cares _what anyone else thinks? I love him, and that’s what matters._

As the news reporter cut back to the studio, Phil tuned his brain in again just in time to hear the news presenter say, “Blackfire’s trial will take place at four-thirty this afternoon at the court house, and will be broadcasted live –”

Phil switched off the TV and went to have a shower and get changed into some everyday clothes.

*

Dan paced restlessly around his cell, kicking at the walls with each turn.

There were no windows in the cell, and the walls were lined with the same metal as the handcuffs he was still forced to wear. Dan’s breathing was still coming slightly too fast, but the guards had paid no attention to it as they had hauled him roughly from the van, dragged him carelessly through the prison and thrown him forcefully into the cell. As he had passed the other cells, many prisoners had come to gawk at him, some even booing or shouting insults at him before the guards yelled at them to shut up.

The guards had removed his mask and taken mugshots; they had also searched his pockets and taken his phone, so it wouldn’t be long before they went through it, found Phil’s number and matched it to the one the mayor had…

Dan didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he knew something must happen soon; his senses (and tiredness) told him that he had been left in the cell overnight, so surely _something must happen soon_ …

Dan jumped as the electronic beep of the door cut through the silence, turning to watch as three burly guards carried in a table and three chairs and set them down in the middle of the cell. Two of the guards left, and the third forced Dan into one of the chairs as two men entered the cell.

Dan kept his head down, staring at the table to avoid making eye contact as the mayor entered, accompanied by the other man who had been at the museum. The two men sat down opposite Dan, and Barrack placed a file and a tablet down on the table.

“Date; October seventeenth, 2012. Time; oh-seven hundred, twenty. Interview with Blackfire.” Barrack spoke into a small, black recording device before setting it carefully on the table and leaning forward. “Hello, Blackfire,” he said, lacing his fingers together. Dan didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on the table. “If this was a movie,” Barrack continued, “I would ask if you know why you’re here, and you would try and deny everything. But this isn’t a movie.” Barrack leaned forward across the table. “You know why you’re here, and you know there’s no point denying anything.”

Dan didn’t respond.

“If you won’t answer to ‘Blackfire’,” Mayor Peters said after a moment, “perhaps the name ‘Dan’ will mean something to you.”

Dan tried to muffle his shock, but the sharp intake of breath gave him away as he glanced up at the two men.

Barrack grinned evilly. “Yes, we thought it might.” He pulled a video up on his tablet and turned it around to show Dan the CCTV footage from the museum.

Dan frowned slightly; he didn’t remember this happening. How much had he missed in the haze of whatever he had been given?

“It seems you and Mr Amazing are a lot better acquainted than you like to pretend,” Barrack continued, taking the tablet back. “You have no more to hide, so you might as well tell us everything.”

When Dan still remained silent, Barrack rifled through the file in front of him and pulled out a sheaf of paper.

“Daniel James Howell, reported missing presumed dead in 2007 after a fire at his family home,” Barrack read, watching Dan for his reaction as he placed a photo of sixteen-year-old Dan on the table for Dan to see. “You’ve changed quite a lot in the last five years, haven’t you, Dan?”

Dan curled his lip at Barrack as Mayor Peters sat forward to look at the photo as well, an expression of astonishment on his face. “Barrack, are you telling me this is actually Howell?” he asked, incredulous, looking back at Dan’s face. “I thought he died.”

“That was the idea,” Dan snarled before Barrack could say anything. He hadn’t meant to speak, but now that he had he might as well continue. “If you thought I was dead, you wouldn’t talk shit about me to my face, then spit on me and beat me into the ground just because you needed someone to take your own problems out on.” Dan’s voice was dangerously soft as he shot to his feet, knocking his chair backwards, and grabbed Mayor Peters’ collar across the table. “You are the reason I died, Steven Peters,” he hissed, letting the guard wrench him back into the chair and glaring daggers at the shocked expression on the mayor’s face. “All those years of _‘faggot’_ comments, punches you threw five to one and only after making sure my hands were tied, spit on my face, sleepless nights and cutting my own _fucking wrists_ to release the pressure of you and the other _cunts_ sitting on my conscience,” Dan paused to take a breath, “Everything built up until I had a _fucking cliff_ to throw myself off, just to get away from _you. You_ killed me, Peters, and some day I’m going to return the favour.”

__A thick silence filled the room as Dan finished speaking. Peters and Barrack both looked shocked as they glanced at each other, unsure what to do next. When a minute of awkward silence had passed, Dan spoke again._ _

__“Now, I’m afraid the joke’s on you, Peters,” he murmured, “‘cause I’m fucking your pet superhero.” Grinning evilly at the expressions on Peters’ and Barrack’s faces, he continued, “You think he’s been working for you, but it was all a charade, and you couldn’t guess it. Our ‘fights’ were just a performance, and you never knew what was happening backstage.”_ _

__Once again, silence fell. After a moment, Barrack reached for the recording device and said into it; “Time; oh-seven hundred, thirty-two. End of interview.”_ _

__As the two men left, Barrack turned back to Dan. “We’ll see you this afternoon for your trial. Try to keep your language kid-friendly in front of the judge, or I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few years.” With one last menacing grin, Barrack left. The guards came back to remove the table and chairs, and once the door clicked shut behind them, Dan was left alone again with only his thoughts for company._ _


	11. The Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I did absolutely no research on how trials work or the law or anything for the next couple of chapters, and everything I know is purely based on watching ‘Legally Blonde’, so there are almost certainly a shit load of factual errors

Phil walked into the courtroom at quarter past four, trying to look inconspicuous as he edged into a seat at the back. Many of the seats were already full; everyone wanted to see Blackfire get what he deserved.

For the fifteen minutes before the trial started, Phil could do nothing except sit and worry. He checked his watch every thirty seconds or so, counting down…

“Everyone, settle down please,” a security guard called over the heads of the excited crowd. “The trial is about to begin.”

As silence fell, a door to one side of the room opened and Phil clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white as Dan was led into the court room to boos and hisses from the crowd, his hands still cuffed in that weird dark metal, keeping his head lowered as the guard pushed him into his seat.

Mayor Peters and Mr Barrack took their seats at the desk on the opposite side to Dan, along with another man who Phil assumed was their lawyer, which made him realise that Dan didn’t have one.

“All stand for the honourable Judge Wateroe.”

Phil kept his eyes fixed on Dan as the judge, a small but intimidating African woman, entered and took her seat at her podium. As the room was seated again, Judge Wateroe banged her gavel, and the trial began.

Barrack’s lawyer stood up and made the claim against Dan for property damage, terrorism and endangering the lives of the public. Dan was called to the stand and reluctantly sworn to honesty, and the lawyer pulled out the documents recording Dan’s disappearance and questioned him about it, adding ‘faking death’ to his list of crimes. Dan explained, saying that the fire was a suicide attempt and pointing the finger of blame at Mayor Peters for being the main reason he was driven to do it.

Phil was shocked; Dan had never mentioned that it was Mayor Peters who was the one who bullied him. If Phil had known, he would never have done _anything_ for Peters, even _pretending_ to fight Dan.

“Is this true, Mr Peters?” Judge Wateroe asked, eyeing the mayor over the top of her glasses.

Peters shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he muttered, “Well, yes Your Honour, but you know how it is when you’re that age…” He trailed off at the look the judge gave him.

“Continue,” she said to the lawyer, who cleared his throat and went on with his case.

A few minutes later, Phil almost choked when he heard the lawyer ask, “Mr Howell, have you or have you not been having sexual relations with Mr Amazing?”

Dan gave the lawyer a withering look, then leaned forward and said, “So what if I have?”

As a low buzz filled the room from the muttering crowd, Dan added loudly, “Why does it matter? It’s none of your business what we do in private, and I was under the impression that this was a free country in terms of love, even if Mayor Peters is a homophobic bigot.”

At that, Mayor Peters shot to his feet, slamming his fists on the desk. “That’s not the point!”

“And what is the point, Mr Peters?” Judge Wateroe asked calmly.

“The point is, they’ve been deceiving the public! Both of them! Blackfire, I mean Howell, has been causing damage to private property, and the man we’ve been hiring to stop him has been in league with him the whole time!”

Peters stopped, breathing heavily. A few moments of silence passed, then;

“Well, call him in, then.” 

“Pardon, Your Honour?”

“Call Mr Amazing in,” the judge ordered, and Phil froze. _Shit._ He hadn’t thought of that. Before he could do anything, Peters, with a smug expression plastered all over his fat face, had pulled out his phone, dialled the number and held it to his ear. There was a moment of silence, and then everyone turned to look at Phil as the phone in his pocket began to buzz.

Phil closed his eyes and sighed, before pulling out his phone and answering the call from ‘Private Number’.

“Do you want me to come up?” he asked into the phone, and when Peters didn’t say anything, Phil took the shocked expression on his face as a yes.

Phil made his way to the front, and his gaze met Dan’s. The younger man’s eyes were wide with shock, and he glanced up at the judge nervously, like a child who was afraid of being told off. Phil pushed open the gate that separates the crowd from the court proceedings, and as he did so Dan leaped away from the stand and sprinted towards him, hoopla-ing his cuffed hands over Phil’s head and pulling him into a hug.

As Phil wrapped his own arms around Dan, the younger man whispered urgently in his ear; “Phil, at the museum, it was PJ, I don’t know what he gave me, _he’s_ behind it –”

Dan was cut off as the guards wrenched his hands off Phil’s head and pulled him back to his seat, but he made no effort to fight them off.

“Order!” Judge Wateroe called, banging her gavel. Once the commotion had calmed down, she turned to Phil. “Who are you?”

Phil took a breath. “Phil Lester,” he said, “but most of you know me as Mr Amazing.”

The judge narrowed her eyes. “Prove you’re him.”

Phil took his phone out and pulled up his contacts, holding his hand out for Mayor Peters’ phone. Peters was so shocked that he handed it over without question, and Phil showed both phones to the judge. “There. My number matches the one Mayor Peters has for Mr Amazing, and I’ve got his number on mine.”

Leaving the phones on Judge Wateroe’s podium, Phil took a step back. “But if that’s not enough proof for you, this might convince you.” Phil launched himself into the air and flew a quick couple of laps around the high ceiling, coming to land in front of the judge again and making contact with her surprised eyes as he did so.

“I am Mr Amazing,” Phil said, turning to speak to the room at large, “and Blackfire is not my enemy.”


	12. What Now?

Phil was called to the stand, and Barrack’s lawyer stepped up to question him.

“Mr Lester, is it true that you have had sexual relations with Mr Howell?”

“Yes,” Phil said, keeping a straight face as he stared past the lawyer and met Dan’s eye.

“And is it also true that you have been, to quote my client, ‘in league with him the whole time’?”

“No,” Phil answered, “not the whole time. The very first fight we had at the fairground was real, but all the ones since then have been for show, basically.”

“What changed, Mr Lester? How did you go from enemies to lovers almost overnight?”

“We didn’t.” Phil moved his gaze to the podium in front of him, where his fingers were unconsciously tracing circles on the wooden surface. “We didn’t become lovers overnight. But we did become friends.”

“And what changed?” the lawyer repeated.

Phil was silent for a moment. “Dan reached out to me,” he said eventually, looking up to meet Dan’s eyes again. “He asked me to meet him, and he told me the story of his past, his attempted suicide…” Phil paused, and Dan nodded at him to continue. “He asked me to give him a second chance, and I did. And you should as well,” he added, remembering what Dan had whispered in his ear about PJ, “Because he wasn’t in control of what happened at the museum.”

“And who do you propose _was_ in control, Mr Lester?” asked Judge Wateroe.

Phil glanced at Dan, who nodded encouragement.

“Dan has a… a kind of sidekick,” Phil began uncertainly. “He gave Dan something, some kind of drug, which stopped Dan being able to think clearly.”

“But why didn’t Mr Howell tell us this himself?”

Phil’s mouth went dry. “What?”

“Well, if that were the truth, surely Mr Howell would have told us when he had the opportunity to explain himself.”

Phil was silent, his mouth slightly open in shock, as he looked past the lawyer to meet Dan’s eye and ask an unspoken question: _What do we do now?_ Dan’s expression mimicked Phil’s before his face fell, and he shook his head slightly: _I don’t know._

*

Phil, sitting next to Dan at the courtroom desk, put his head in his hands as Judge Wateroe spoke.

“Mr Howell, you are sentenced to ten years in prison for repeated destruction of property and endangering your fellow humans. For the duration of your sentence, you will wear the flame-repressant handcuffs at all times to prevent you using your powers against others. Take him away.”

Dan, who had paled at the mention of having to wear handcuffs for ten years, turned to Phil as the guards came to lead him away and gave him one last desperate hug and a message in his ear:

“Phil, you have to keep a watch on PJ; they don’t believe us about him, you’re the only one who can stop him if he decides to do anything.”

“I’ll visit you,” Phil promised; and as the guards pulled him away, tears extinguishing the fire in his deep brown eyes, Dan said, “I love you, Phil.”

“I love you too, Dan,” Phil called, watching as the doors closed and blocked his boyfriend from sight.

The courtroom was silent, and Phil, suddenly conscious of everyone staring at him, grabbed his phone from the table and stormed down the aisle and out of the room, wiping his own tears from his eyes as he went.

*

Phil landed on the roof of his building and kept his eyes to the floor as he descended the stairs and let himself into his apartment, not caring if his neighbours saw him; they would all know by now, anyway.

As he threw his keys and phone down on the kitchen island, his phone lit up with a call. Phil, in no mood to talk to anyone at the moment, declined it without reading the name and moved to collapse on the sofa, his head in his hands and a stormcloud of emotions hanging over him.


	13. Listen

When Phil woke up the next morning, he considered skipping work and just spending the day pretending to be ill, but he decided against it as he thought that doing something familiar and normal might help make him feel better. Besides, he still had bills to pay, and working would be a good distraction; it wouldn’t help him or Dan to just sit around at home all day.

Phil kept his head down as he walked to the stationary shop, hoping to avoid drawing attention. Before he left his apartment, he had briefly considered flying to work; after all, it wasn’t a secret any more. However, he had decided not to, as it was a big city and there was a significant chance that there would be plenty of people who hadn’t seen the trial.

The shop was still closed when he arrived, so Phil began opening up and making sure everything was in the right place for the start of the day.

Chris arrived about half an hour after Phil, quickly passing the few customers who had already wandered in and Phil at the checkout to put his coat in the back room. A couple of minutes later, he came back out and joined Phil behind the counter.

“Hi,” Chris said, sounding slightly nervous.

“Hello,” Phil replied, staring unseeingly at his hands on the counter.

“You alright?” Chris asked hesitantly.

“Fine. You?”

“Yeah, good.”

There was an awkward silence. Then, after a few moments, Chris asked, “How was court yesterday?”

Phil let out a short, non-committal breath through his nose. “Watching, were you?”

“No, I saw it on the news this morning.” Chris sighed. “So, you’re Mr Amazing, huh?”

“Don’t start, Chris,” Phil told him, standing up.

“But I’m your _best friend_ , Phil, how could you not tell me?” Chris asked, grabbing Phil’s arm as he moved to push past.

“Don’t get offended, I didn’t even tell my own family,” Phil retorted snappily, shaking off Chris’s hand.

“But –”

“I don’t feel well,” Phil interrupted, picking up his coat from where he’d dropped it under the desk and pulling it on as he walked out from behind the checkout. “I’m going home.”

“Phil, wait –”

“No, Chris!” Phil yelled, turning to glare at the other man. “You have no right to give me shit about a part of my life that you don’t even understand! Just _fuck off_ and leave me alone!”

With that, Phil stormed out, leaving a shocked and hurt-looking Chris standing in the middle of the shop surrounded by the surprised faces of customers.

*

Phil didn’t go back to his apartment right away. Instead, he walked over to Manchester Street and flew up to the top of the abandoned apartment building because that was _their place_ ; his and Dan’s, no-one else’s.

He stayed there for several hours, staring unseeing at the city moving several hundred metres below his dangling feet, his mind filled with nightmarish daydreams about what Dan was doing, trapped in a tiny prison cell with his hands cuffed together.

Dan couldn’t deal with being restrained; Phil knew that from what Dan had told him about himself in the early days of their friendship. They had been sitting where Phil was now, and Dan had explained why he feared being arrested so much:

_“When the bullies used to hold my hands behind my back,”_ Dan had said, _“I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I lost control of my body and mind, and now that I have my powers it would be a lot worse. People would get hurt, maybe even killed.”_

_“But… you use your powers on people all the time,”_ Phil had said hesitantly, _“people are going to get hurt anyway, aren’t they?”_

Dan had shaken his head. _“I always hold back on my powers, and I never purposefully aim them at people. My aim is mainly to confuse them and make them fear me, not to hurt or kill anyone.”_

Phil jumped as his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket and just barely managed to avoid dropping it off the edge of the roof as he fumbled to pull it out and read the name.

It was his mum. Phil took a breath to calm his racing heart, and then answered it.

“Hey, mum.”

“Hi, sweetie.” His mum’s voice issued from the speaker, sounding slightly concerned. “How are you?”

“Um, good thanks. How are you and dad?”

“We’re alright, dear.” There was a brief pause before his mum spoke again, talking hurriedly. “Listen, Phil, I’m calling because we saw what happened, with the trial and Blackfire and you being Mr Amazing –”

“Mum –”

“– and you didn’t answer my call last night, and I was worried because that wasn’t like you, and –”

“Mum, stop,” Phil said gently, and for a moment all he could hear was his mum’s breathing through the phone. “I’m sorry, I was going to tell you, about everything, I just didn’t know how, and then I got distracted, and –”

“Phil.” It was his mum’s turn to interrupt him. “I don’t mind that you didn’t tell me. You’re a grown man, you don’t need to tell me everything that goes on in your life, and frankly I don’t need to know.” Phil felt his face grow red as he heard the implications behind that last statement. “I just want you to know that we still love you – we always will, nothing will ever change that – and we support you no matter who you love.”

A smile of relief crept onto Phil’s face. “Really?”

“Really really.”

“Thanks, mum.”

“Anytime, dear. I’m always here.”

“Bye, mum. Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Phil.”

Phil hung up, and, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest, flew back to his apartment.


	14. Waking Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that it’s been so long since the last update! I had a bit of writer’s block, and there is a lot of other stuff going on in my life at the moment. Anyway, in an attempt to make up for the long wait, I’ve made this chapter longer than usual, and I will do my very best to get the next chapter out within a week.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken time to read this, I really appreciate all of you for sticking with me <3  
> Also, disclaimer: I have no idea how prisons function. You have been warned :)

The sound of birdsong. Gentle summer breezes playing amongst the woodland life. Bright Sunlight filtering through the branches of peaceful trees.

Dan blinked. He was standing in a calm forest, his senses surrounded by the scents, sights and sounds. Dan picked up one foot and placed it carefully in the leaf mold of the forest floor. When nothing bad happened, Dan set off into the trees.

As he walked, Dan abruptly became aware of someone walking behind him. He turned, but could see no-one. As he glanced around the trees, Dan noticed the stillness in the air: the birds had fallen silent, and even the wind had stopped, petrifying the leaves of the undergrowth.

Suddenly, there was another layer to reality: a school playground pasted on top of the forest. A gang of boys were stalking towards him, shouting insults:

_“Hey, gaylord! Queer! Faggot!”_

Dan was twelve years old again, and a younger Steven Peters was grabbing him by the collar, slamming him against the wall of the courtyard, and Dan slid down to sprawl on the roots of a tree. Peters’ slurs were lost in a whirlwind of too many other voices yelling the same things as he approached Dan, aging as he came, and present-day Dan was staring up at present-day Peters for a brief moment before the latter’s face contorted into an expression of shock, pain, fear… and disintegrated into ash with a bone-chilling scream.

And now Dan was looking at himself. Except it wasn’t him; this was Blackfire, eyes blazing with anger and hurt and the desire to destroy, to take his revenge on the ones who had made his life miserable.

Dan scrambled backwards, away from the monster standing in front of him, but Blackfire came after him, each stride taking him further than the one before until Dan was looking up at a towering forty-foot nightmare wrapped in shadows; the forest around him was burning in an uncontrollable wildfire, the screams of the woodland creatures deafening him almost as much as Blackfire’s blood-chilling, merciless laugh.

Dan fell backwards into a hollow beneath a tree and buried his head in his arms, tears running from his eyes as he tried desperately to block out this fucked up world.

Abruptly, there was silence but for Dan’s own sobs, and a gentle hand was laid on Dan’s head. Slowly, Dan looked up, blinking in the cold Sunlight at the silhouette that was bending over him. A pale hand stretched towards him out of the shadow, and Dan took it and let the figure help him up.

Phil’s face appeared in front of Dan, and his vision was filled with blue eyes and a cheeky tongue-between-teeth smile and a raven-black quiff.

Dan collapsed against him, feeling strong arms wrap around him as he sobbed into the chest of the one constant comfort in his life: Phil, the weight that kept him grounded, the loving smile and hand on his shoulder when he was going through difficult times, the Sun that still shone behind the darkness of the Moon.

Dan lifted his head, but Phil wasn’t there anymore; only a warm shell of air where he had stood. Dan glanced around frantically, looking for him between the trees of the quickly fading forest as Phil’s voice drifted like a gentle breeze around his ears:

_“I’m always here, Dan. Even when everyone else has left you and you can’t see me,_ I _am still here because I love you.”_

*

A loud banging threw Dan from the forest of his dream and he landed, panting, in his uncomfortable excuse for a bed in his jail cell, his legs and body entangled in the thin blanket and sweat and tears mingling on his cheeks. Dan rolled over and extricated himself from the blanket, wiping his face on it as he did so and still breathing heavily.

“Wake up, Howell.” The loud, intrusive voice of one of the guards pounded Dan’s head as he unlocked the food door and pushed in a tray with a plate of toast and margarine and a glass of water on it. “Eat up. Yard time’s in twenty minutes.”

Once the guard had left, Dan climbed stiffly off the bunk and stretched, grateful at least to be able to move his arms properly.

It had been almost a week since the trial, but after only a couple of days Dan had already been going insane from having his hands cuffed together 24/7, and eventually, caving in to his desperation, had asked one of the guards to cut the chain connecting the cuffs.

“I’ll still be wearing them,” Dan had reasoned desperately, “I just want to be able to use my hands properly. Please,” he begged, when the guard showed signs of refusing. It was bad enough that he had to wear the rough orange prison suit, let alone also being forced to keep his hands cuffed together for _ten fucking years._

Dan hated having to beg; he was used to being on the other end as Blackfire, with people fearing him and pleading for their lives.

Fortunately, Dan had picked on one of the more sympathetic guards, and they had talked to one of their superiors about what Dan had said. There had been a large amount of suspicion for Dan’s motive, but the next day the one of the scientists who worked for Barrack and Barrack himself had been called in to evaluate whether separating the cuffs would affect their effectiveness at stopping Dan’s powers. Barrack had smirked at him cruelly and insisted that having his hands cuffed together for the duration of his sentence was part of his punishment, but the scientist had pointed out that the judge had only said that Dan had to wear the cuffs and had mentioned nothing about them having to be joined together. She had then pulled out sheets of calculations and diagrams which showed that separating the cuffs would have no impact on their effectiveness, all the while ignoring the pointed expressions of _shut up_ that Barrack was shooting at her from across the table, much to Dan’s amusement.

At last, despite Barrack’s objections, the head guard agreed and the chain was cut, leaving Dan with two heavy, metal, but thankfully separated, electronic bangles.

Now, Dan finished his pitiful breakfast and went to wash his face at the sink in the corner before the guard came back and forced him to go outside and socialise with the other prisoners.

Dan was led through the corridors of the prison block with a small group of other prisoners and forced out into the concrete-clad yard. As he stepped through the doors, Dan glanced up at the watchtowers that were spaced regularly along the walls. Each tower was occupied by an armed guard and enclosed by thick bulletproof glass. The yard was a rough 100 metres by 65 metres oblong, minus a small, fenced-off section where the bins were kept, and the whole area was monitored by security cameras.

The other prisoners had already gathered in their usual cliques, so Dan drifted into one corner and slid down the wall to sit on the concrete in the shade, staring at nothing and just waiting for the time when he could go back inside.

After a few minutes, Dan noticed that one group on the other side of the yard kept glancing at him and muttering amongst themselves. Dan thought nothing of it, until they began marching towards him led by the biggest guy in the yard.

Dan stared straight ahead as they stopped in front of him, only looking up after a few moments of silence had passed, keeping his expression neutral.

The man in front was a stereotypical criminal, with a bulky stature, bald head and tattoos everywhere. Dan looked him up and down, and then, when none of them spoke, said; “Is there something I can help you with? Because if you’re just gonna stand there this is gonna get awkward very quickly.” He then looked back at the concrete next to his feet, ignoring the men and playing with his fingers.

Dan heard the man’s breathing speed up and the crack of his knuckles, and allowed himself an internal smirk; it was fun messing with them, and Dan had learned early on in his life to not show bullies the fear they wanted to see.

“Actually, punk,” the guy in front said, his voice dripping with thinly veiled anger, “there is something we wanted.”

“Oh yeah?” Dan asked noncommittedly, keeping his eyes on his hands.

“Yeah.” The leader crouched down, and Dan glanced up at him. “Since you’re the newbie here, we thought we’d show you the ropes, see what you’re made of, maybe even let you join the group…” The man stood up abruptly, his tone changing from mock-friendly to obvious threat. “But you’ve caused us too much hell to deserve that. We’re the biggest names in crime in this city, and you’re always there to fuck us up. For that, we’ll have to punish you.”

The other men began cracking their knuckles in anticipation, but before they could even step forward Dan was on his feet, eyes smouldering with fury.

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” Dan heard one of the thugs at the back snicker, but he kept talking as the leader silenced him with a glare. “What have you ever done? I was under the impression that Blackfire was the biggest name in crime around here; you lot are just another bunch of mortal thugs seeking attention for something that’s been done a million times before.”

Dan was taller than the thug leader by about a head, and although the leader had a lot more visible muscles, Dan had much more latent power that originated in the fiery heart of the Earth Herself. Dan used this power now as he suddenly grabbed the leader with one fist clenched on the front of the man’s shirt directly under his chin.

“Just remember,” Dan hissed, grinning evilly as he noticed the other men take a step back, “that if it weren’t for two very small rings of metal, I could melt your flesh into a puddle of ashes and step over it without a second thought.”

A few long moments of silence passed, with the tough outer shell fighting to remain dominant over the shock and fear that were forcing their way onto the leader’s face. Dan kept staring him threateningly in the eyes, unblinking and emotionless, before a shout from across the yard drew his attention.

“Howell!”

Dan let go of the leader and watched as he stumbled backwards before turning towards the sound of the voice. One of the prison guards by the door was waving to get his attention.

“Howell, you’ve got a visitor!”

Leaving the gang with one final threatening look to remind them that he meant business, Dan headed over to the guard, a spark of joy igniting in his chest: there was only one person he could think of who would be visiting him today.


	15. Threatened

Everyone around Phil seemed on edge as he walked through the prison, following one of the guards through to the visiting room.

He nodded his thanks as the guard showed him in and pointed towards an empty cubicle. It was exactly like all the movies portrayed: rows of seats separated into cubicles with phones and facing a glass wall with an identical setup on the other side. There were already a few other visitors talking to prisoners, and many of them looked around as Phil entered and sat down, fiddling with his hands as he waited.

After a few minutes, a door on the other side opened and Phil couldn’t help grinning as Dan was shown in. When the younger man spotted him, Dan’s expression also changed to one of joy, and he hurriedly took the seat opposite Phil and picked up the phone. Phil did the same, relieved to hear Dan’s voice crackling through the receiver.

“Hey.”

“You look terrible,” Phil smiled, only half teasing: the younger man’s eyes were slightly bloodshot and underlined with deep purple shadows; his face looked thinner, and his usually meticulously straightened hair was scruffy and wavy and paler than usual, the red dye beginning to fade.

Dan laughed, sending a familiar warm feeling through Phil’s heart. “Thanks. We haven’t seen each other in like a week, and the first thing you say to me is ‘you look terrible’? Is that how you greet your boyfriend?”

Phil smiled. “I’m sorry, babe. How’re you doing?”

“Ugh,” Dan stretched. “Not too bad. I mean, it’s been tough, but at least my hands aren’t tied together anymore.” He waved his wrists around to demonstrate.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t realise,” Phil said. “How come?”

Dan shrugged. “Well, after a couple of days I was kind of freaking out about it, so I asked one of the guards if they would cut it, and they had to call in Barrack and one of his scientists to check if it was ok. Barrack was all for letting me suffer –”

“Dickhead,” Phil muttered.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, the scientist said as long as I still wore the cuffs they would still work even if the chain was cut, and it was really funny because Barrack kept glaring at her like ‘shut the fuck up and take my side’, but she just ignored him, and here we are.” A grin had crept onto Dan’s face as he spoke, and Phil smiled when he saw the familiar fire rekindle in his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Anyway, how have you been?” Dan asked, frowning slightly as he took in Phil’s similarly dishevelled appearance.

It was Phil’s turn to shrug. “Average; nothing good, nothing particularly bad. My colleague, Chris, was a bit iffy when I went to work on Thursday, and I got quite frustrated with him when he tried to ask me questions about Mr Amazing and Blackfire, so I told him I didn’t feel well and, long story short, I _might_ have spent all weekend at home binge-watching Netflix and not answering the phone,” Phil finished guiltily, rubbing his face with his free hand.

Dan’s expression had softened as Phil spoke, and now he smiled sympathetically and said, “I can’t really blame you for that. I mean, that’s basically what I spend most of my time doing when I’m not with you or blowing up the city.”

Phil grinned sadly. “We’re both kind of pathetic, aren’t we?”

“Completely,” Dan agreed, deadpan.

They both smiled, and there was a moment of silence before Phil said, “When you get out of here, I’m gonna take you away somewhere. Maybe up north, but somewhere where we can get away from the city and spend time together without having to worry.”

“That sounds nice.” Dan’s smile dimmed slightly. “But I’ve got ten years before that could happen. You might have moved on by then.”

Phil shook his head. “I won’t. You’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Really?” Dan asked, placing his palm on the glass that separated them.

“Really,” Phil promised, copying Dan and wishing he could actually touch him.

They sat looking into each other’s eyes in silence for a few minutes. Then, Dan lowered his voice and asked, “Any sign of PJ?”

“No.” Phil shook his head again. “Nothing. I’ve kept an eye on the news in between seasons of ‘Game of Thrones’, but they still haven’t found any of the artefacts that went missing, or the person who took them since no-one believed us about him.”

“What was taken?” Dan asked curiously, frowning.

“Um, a few things from the robotics and nuclear power exhibits, and something from Ancient Egypt,” Phil told him, hesitating as he tried to remember what the news reporter had said.

Dan took his hand off the glass and rubbed his face, his frown deepening as he sat back in his chair.

“Dan?”

Phil jumped as Dan suddenly slammed his elbows on the table and smacked himself in the face, a frustrated groan escaping through his nose.

“What is it? Dan, what’s happening?” Phil’s knuckles were white as he gripped the phone.

“Blueprints…” Dan muttered angrily to himself, grinding the heel of his hand into his forehead.

“Dan?” Phil repeated, slightly frantically.

Dan looked up and met Phil’s eyes, speaking hurriedly into the phone. “Over the last few months, PJ’s been sneaking around a lot, spending a lot of time in the computer room and the basement. At first I thought nothing of it, but a couple of weeks ago, I noticed a lot of weird things showing up in the search history, stuff about how to build robots and where to buy machine guns and other things like that, so I went down to the basement when he wasn’t in to see if I could find out what he was up to.” Dan ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. “One table was covered in loads of mechanical parts, circuit boards, scraps of metal, wires, tools and loads of other shit that I don’t understand. On another table there were pieces of paper covered in sketches and diagrams, and blueprints for a kind of robotic suit.”

“Did you ask PJ about it?” Phil asked after a moment of silence. Then, when Dan shook his head hesitantly, “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just…” Dan put his face in his hands and took a deep breath that rattled harshly through the phone. “I dunno, I… I got distracted, and… I’ve been hiding stuff from him, so why shouldn’t I give him the benefit of the doubt?” Dan sounded slightly desperate as he looked up to meet Phil’s eyes again, his expression, so different from the one that normally hid behind Blackfire’s mask, filled with guilt and sad frustration.

Phil smiled gently at him, putting his hand on the glass again. “Dan,” he said calmly but firmly, “it’s fine, don’t worry. It’s in the past now.”

“Two minutes.”

Phil glanced over his shoulder as he was interrupted by the guard who was standing by the door, supervising the prisoners and their visitors. When he turned back to Dan, his boyfriend looked more hopeful.

“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” Phil promised, continuing as though there had been no interruption. “If you think of anything else, call me, ok?”

Dan nodded, placing his hand on the glass over Phil’s. “I will. Do you need to go?”

“Yeah, they’re gonna kick me out in a minute, and I should probably go to work at some point otherwise I’ll never be able to afford our trip.” Phil smiled.

Dan nodded again, grinning. “Yeah. And, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

A few moments of silence passed before Dan spoke, his voice calm and sympathetic. “Give Chris a chance. I know it’s been stressful, but it won’t help to get pissy whenever anyone tries to bring up the subject of Mr Amazing and Blackfire.”

Phil smiled. “Yeah. Ok.”

“Time’s up.”

The guard was standing behind Phil with a stern expression on his face. Phil gave him a brief nod of understanding before turning back to Dan.

“I’ve gotta go, babe. I’ll see you soon, ok?”

Dan smiled. “Bye, Phil. I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye, Dan.”

They smiled at each other as they both hung up, and Phil paused to watch as Dan was led out of the room before following the guard.


	16. Back to Normal...

Phil hesitated by the door of the stationary shop, his hand hovering over the handle before grabbing it decidedly and opening the door. There were a couple of customers drifting around the shelves at the back, but Phil was focused on the figure slumped over the checkout.

As Phil walked over, Chris lifted his head sleepily, then, seeing who it was, sat up hurriedly and tried to straighten his shirt.

“Uh, hi,” Chris muttered nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi,” Phil said, leaning against the counter and tracing anxious circles on its surface. “Listen, I… I want to apologise for what I said to you the other day. I know you didn’t mean to, y’know, piss me off, and I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. I’ve just had a stressful week, and… yeah. I’m sorry,” Phil repeated, glancing up at Chris.

Chris’s expression had relaxed as Phil spoke, and now he grinned sympathetically.

“Thanks for apologising. And, in turn, I’m sorry for pushing you about it. You’re right: it isn’t any of my business what’s happening in your life, and I don’t understand what it’s been like for you. I just want you to remember that I’m here if you do want to talk.”

Phil grinned back. “Thanks.”

“Ahem.”

Phil turned towards the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then moved out of the way when he saw the customer standing behind him so that they could reach the checkout. As Chris began scanning their items, Phil said, “I’ll start unpacking the Tuesday delivery.”

“Thanks,” Chris called after him as he went to dump his coat in the back office, settling back into work as though he had never been away.

*

A week later, Phil was completely at ease with being back at work again. Although several customers did double takes and stared when they saw him, Phil acted like he had before Dan’s trial and tried to ignore it. There were a few people who tried to talk to him, and a couple even asked for photos or autographs, but Phil politely declined, insisting that he wanted to keep those lives separate.

Phil had been back to visit Dan twice, but as neither of them had heard any more about PJ there wasn’t much news to tell, and the visits had basically just been used as an excuse to see each other in person. For the most recent visit, they had been allowed to talk in a more open room without having glass separating them, and they had even managed to sneak in a couple of kisses when the supervising guard wasn’t looking.

Chris wasn’t there yet when Phil arrived at the shop on Wednesday, so Phil began setting up while he waited for the other man to arrive. The shop windows were decked out in orange cobwebs and large paper spiders, and on his walk to work Phil had passed many groups of children chatting about their plans and costumes for Halloween that evening. Phil had never been the biggest fan of Halloween; when he was younger he had always gone out Trick-or-Treating, but as he didn’t like jumpscares it had never been much fun for him.

When Chris hurried in an hour later, Phil was sitting behind the counter serving the sixth customer of the day already; another frantic parent trying to prepare for the evening. Chris left his coat in the back office, then came over to the checkout once the customer had left, yawning widely as he leaned against the counter.

“Where have you been?” Phil asked, attempting to stifle his own yawn.

“Overslept,” Chris explained. “Then I ran into my neighbour as I came out the door, and she always wants to chat about every tiny detail of her life that she’s told everyone and their mother a hundred times already, and I just barely managed to escape from her.”

“Sounds fun.” Phil grinned sympathetically, standing up and edging out from behind the counter so that Chris could take his usual place at the checkout.

As Chris sat down, Phil’s pocket began to buzz. Phil pulled out his phone, surprised to see an incoming call from ‘Private Number’. He raised his eyebrows at Chris, who frowned curiously, and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Mr Amazing, we have a problem.” Mayor Peters’ slightly frantic voice greeted him, underlined by a hint of anger. “There’s a thirty-storey robot attacking Second Street.”

Phil waited a moment for him to elaborate. When Peters didn’t, he asked, “And what do you want me to do about it?”

A short huff rattled through the phone before the mayor spoke again. “We need you to stop it. You’re the city’s resident superhero, this is your job!” Peters was definitely angry now.

“I’m sorry,” Phil argued sassily, “one, pretty much every ‘heroic’ thing I’ve ever done was an act; two, I have an actual job, which I’m at now, and that I actually get paid for; three, why –” Phil resisted adding in ‘the fuck’ as the next customer stepped up to the checkout, “– should I do anything to help you? You’ve made my boyfriend’s life miserable, _and_ you’ve only ever treated me as a tool to help you get what you want. I don’t owe you anything.”

“I’ll give you anything you want!” Peters burst out desperately, “Please just get rid of it before it destroys the rest of the city!”

Phil pondered for a moment, purposefully keeping Peters on edge. “Anything?” he asked.

“Within reason,” Peters insisted.

Phil left it another moment before speaking. “Alright. Meet me at the prison as soon as possible.”

“But I said it’s on Second Street…”

“Do you want me to stop it or not?”

Peters sighed frustratedly. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

Phil hung up, looking over at Chris as the customer left. The other man’s brow was creased in confusion.

“What is it?” Chris asked worriedly.

“I’ve gotta go,” Phil said, starting to move towards the back room. “There’s more work for Mr Amazing.”

Chris nodded. “You go. I’ll be fine here on my own.”

Phil grabbed his coat out of the back room, giving Chris a nod and a grin as he hurried out of the door and launched himself into the air.


	17. ... Then Everything Gets Fucked Up Again

Although Phil couldn’t see the source of destruction, he could hear it stomping around in the distance as he flew to the prison. He could also hear screaming and gunfire, and Phil knew that he could never actually have refused to help.

Phil landed outside the prison and immediately pushed through the door and began walking purposefully towards the cells. The guards who were standing in the lobby looked surprised by his sudden entrance, but a couple of them moved to stand in front of him, calmly but pointedly blocking his way.

“Can I help you, sir?” one of the guards asked.

“I need to see Dan Howell,” Phil insisted, moving to push past him. The other guard moved once again to block his path.

“I’m sorry, sir; visiting hours aren't until later. You will have to come back this afternoon.”

The guard put a restraining hand on Phil’s chest and made to lead him out of the door. Phil stood up to his full height of 6ft 3 and glared down at the guards.

“Do you know who I am?” Phil asked, his voice menacingly soft and overflowing with anger. “I am Mr Amazing, and there is a giant robot out there destroying the city which I will not fight without Blackfire’s help!” Phil’s voice had risen to a shout as he spoke, and the guards, who so far had retained an expression of brave indifference, began to look nervous.

More guards were now coming to see what was happening. “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” another guard said, trying to pull Phil towards the exit.

“I’m not leaving without Dan,” Phil told him, employing his super strength to ensure he remained exactly where he was.

“Sir –”

“What’s going on here?”

Phil turned around as Mayor Peters walked in, flanked by Barrack and a few other men.

“Mayor Peters,” one of the guards chimed in, “this man was trying to get into the cells. He says he needs to see Howell.”

Peters looked over at where Phil was standing surrounded by guards, then sighed frustratedly.

“Yes, let him through.”

“Sir…?”

“He has my permission,” Peters told the guard. “We all need to see Howell.”

The guards surrounding Phil let go of him, and the one who had been talking to Peters led them down the corridor towards the cells.

For the four minutes it took for them to reach Dan’s cell, Barrack was complaining loudly to Peters about letting Phil have Dan’s help.

“Howell still has ten years of his sentence to live through,” Barrack insisted. “Lester should have to get rid of the robot on his own; he’s obviously powerful enough.”

“Dan’s freedom is my price for doing this,” Phil told Barrack, not bothering to look at the businessman as he followed the guard through the corridor. “Plus, I’m 98 percent sure the pilot is Dan’s sidekick, and Dan is the person who knows best how he functions, and therefore has the best chance of knowing how to stop him.”

A minute later, they stopped outside a door with a small window that seemed a lot more high-security than the other cells had. The guard punched in a code and the door slid aside to reveal an iron gate, through which they could see a figure in orange prison overalls collapsed on the bed, fast asleep.

“Howell, wake up,” the guard yelled, banging on the gate. “You’ve got visitors.”

“Ugh, fuck off,” Dan muttered, rolling over.

“Dan, it’s me,” Phil called, wrapping his hand around one of the bars and smiling at Dan's attitude towards the guard.

“Phil?” Dan sat up and rubbed his eye with one hand. When he saw who it was, Dan’s face split into a grin and he leaped off the bed and ran to the door, reaching as much of his arm as he could through the bars in an attempt to hug Phil and kissing him. “What are you doing here?” Dan asked when he pulled away.

Phil glanced over at Peters, staring at him pointedly. Peters sighed in frustration.

“Listen, Howell.” Peters stepped forward. When he saw the mayor, Dan’s behaviour changed in an instant. He let go of Phil and glared knives at Peters, a firestorm rolling in behind his eyes.

“What do you want?” Dan growled.

“There’s a giant robot attacking Second Street,” Peters explained, his voice struggling to remain calm under the strain of his own annoyance. “I called Lester, but he says he won’t fight it without your help as he believes it’s your sidekick controlling it.”

Dan’s eyebrows had risen further and further up his forehead as Peters spoke, and now he crossed his arms, a sarcastic expression on his face.

“So let me get this straight,” Dan said after a moment, still glaring at Peters. “Me and Phil warned you that PJ might try to attack the city, but you didn’t believe us and ignored our warnings. And now you want our help to stop him? Why the fuck should we help you?”

Peters glanced at Barrack, but the businessman was stubbornly not looking at him and for once unwilling to put forward his opinion. Peters looked back at Dan and sighed.

“If you help, I will make sure you are cleared of all charges and grant you your freedom,” Peters promised grudgingly.

Phil turned to look from Peters to Dan, but his boyfriend still looked sceptical.

“Please, Dan,” Phil murmured, reaching through the bars to take Dan’s hand. “We don’t have to wait ten years.”

Dan looked up to meet Phil’s blue eyes, the angry fire dimming in his own brown ones. Then he grinned, flames of excitement rearing up to replace the last of the anger, and nodded.

“Alright then.” Dan clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I need my old clothes, some hair straighteners and a can of spray-on red hair dye. Blackfire’s back, and he’s in the mood to kick ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there, folks! Only a few more chapters left!


	18. See You On The Other Side

Phil paced anxiously outside the prison, waiting for Dan to finish getting dressed. Peters and Barrack were standing in annoyed silence by the wall, occasionally shooting glances at Phil.

Finally, after about five minutes, Dan emerged, flanked by three guards and grinning at Phil with a new light in his eyes.

Phil couldn’t take his eyes off his boyfriend: Dan’s hair was freshly straightened, dyed and styled, and had regained a lot of its vibrancy; his leather jacket and bodysuit were clean, and emphasised his tall, muscular (albeit thin) frame, making him look even more attractive in Phil’s eyes; his face was still slightly pale, and he still had bags under his eyes, but the glow of the fire that radiated from his face managed to disguise that and turn it into something beautiful.

While Dan had been getting ready, Phil had rushed home to put his super suit on, and now he could feel Dan studying his appearance just as Phil was studying Dan’s.

Phil grinned at Dan, and Dan grinned back as one of the guards called his name. Dan turned around to see Barrack and Peters standing with the guards, and his grin faded to an expression of formal agreement. Barrack beckoned him over, grudgingly pulling a remote control keypad out of his pocket as Dan walked over and held out his wrists.

“Before I remove the cuffs,” Barrack said, “do you promise to only use your powers against the robot, and not against us?”

“Yes,” Dan agreed impatiently.

Barrack gritted his teeth and entered the passcode into the remote. There was a beep, a click, and then two metal rings clattered onto the concrete at Dan’s feet.

Dan rubbed his wrists, ignoring the guards, Barrack and Peters as they all took a cautious step back. He turned around slowly to face Phil, and Phil grinned at him and took a step forward.

Suddenly, Dan let out a burst of manic laughter and leaped into the air, flames flowing from his fingers and propelling him upwards like a jetpack. Dan kept climbing, occasionally dissolving into fiery fragments and letting out loud whoops and cheers of happiness, shooting his powers into the sky as if he was trying to make up for the two weeks when he hadn’t been able to use them.

Phil flew up to join him, hovering nearby and watching with a loving smile on his face as Dan performed loop-the-loops and corkscrews and loads of other moves, switching between solid and fire like someone who can’t decide which channel to watch.

After a few minutes, Dan calmed down and flew towards Phil, nearly knocking him out of the air as he wrapped his arms around the older man and pulled him in for an extremely heated kiss.

They broke apart when they heard Peters shouting at them from the ground so far below.

“Howell! Lester! Have you forgotten about the giant robot destroying the city?! Get over there and stop it!”

Dan and Phil grinned at each other, slightly sheepishly, then flew off together towards the sounds of destruction coming from Second Street.

They landed on the roof of a tall apartment building a couple of streets away. From there, they could easily see the robot towering over the buildings as it stomped down the road, lashing out at the buildings on both sides and making its way towards the bank that PJ had been so annoyed at Dan for breaking into.

“Hang on a sec…” Phil squinted at the robot. “Is it… made of cardboard?”

Dan shrugged, shaking his head disbelievingly. “I dunno, could be. PJ’s weird; I wouldn’t put it past him to make it out of cardboard.”

“Can’t you just set it on fire, then?” Phil asked, confused.

Dan shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t think it’ll be that simple. If it was just ordinary cardboard, the guns would’ve already ripped it to pieces.”

“Yeah, alright.” Phil studied the robot again. “Can you see PJ? Is it a suit or remote controlled?”

“The blueprints looked like a suit,” Dan recalled. “He’s probably inside it.”

They were silent for a moment. Then, Phil said, “Shall we go, then?”

“Yeah, I s’pose so.” Dan turned to Phil and kissed him. “I’m still holding you to your promise, Lester.”

Phil grinned. “Of course, Howell.”

They shared a brief nod, and then they both launched themselves off the roof and into the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a couple of chapters left, people! Thank you so much for all your support <3


	19. Walls Won't Keep Out Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was intending for the fight scene to be just one long chapter, but it's already getting _really_ long and as I'm really late uploading, I have decided to split it into two chapters, and hopefully the next one should be out within a week.  
>  Thanks again to everyone who has stuck with me on this fic, we're nearly there guys! <3

Dan lost track of Phil almost immediately, and he barely got within firing distance before the robot spotted him. As it turned, Dan caught a glimpse of PJ behind its eyes before its enormous hand swung out of nowhere and almost sent him hurtling into one of the buildings. Fortunately for Dan’s dignity, he managed to dodge being thrown out of the fight within the first ten seconds, and instead he punched straight for where PJ stood behind the eyes and exploded like a bomb into a million pieces of fiery shrapnel that should have ripped through the cardboard like… well, cardboard.

However, the robot just seemed to absorb everything Dan threw at it, and PJ’s gloating, magnified voice came booming out of it.

“Fancy seeing you here, sir,” PJ said. “I thought you’d be stuck in jail for at least a while longer.”

“Why are you doing this, PJ?” Dan called once he’d reformed, flying out of the robot’s range.

“Nope, I’m not taking that bait.” The robot paused its destruction to swing a giant fist at Dan, taking a step towards him and crushing a couple of cars under its feet as it did so. “I’ve seen all the movies, read all the books; I know that the hero always gets the villain monologging so that they can distract them and defeat them.”

“So you admit you’re the villain?” Dan pointed out, dodging between the robot’s flailing hands and firing beams of laser-like flame at the exposed areas whenever he saw an opening.

“Of course!” There was a manic hint to PJ’s voice as the robot gestured around at the destruction it had caused. “And you should be too! You should be fighting with me, not against me; help me destroy the people who have caused both of us so much pain! What happened to those plans, sir? I came to work for you hoping that you would help me, because we both had the same goals! But now…” PJ trailed off, apparently realising that he had just been monologging, and his voice stiffened with anger. “You’re one of them.”

The robot suddenly punched out at Dan, catching him in the chest and throwing him against an apartment block a few buildings down the street. Dan felt glass and brick shatter as he slammed into the wall, sliding down to lie, winded and gasping for breath, on someone’s balcony about seven or eight storeys up.

As PJ advanced, Dan glanced around desperately. _Where was Phil?_

*

Phil flinched as the robot picked Dan up in one massive fist and hurled him at the building on the opposite side of the street, where he smashed through a window and disappeared from view. Phil had been flying around out of the robot’s sight since the start of the fight, looking for any weaknesses in its armour, but as PJ made to grab Dan again, Phil abandoned his staying-out-of-sight plan and shot towards the robot, a lion-like roar of anger bursting from his mouth and causing PJ to turn away from Dan and towards him.

A loud cry of shock and frustration in PJ’s voice escaped from the robot as Phil slammed into its side at full speed, making it stumble back towards the building where Dan had landed. At that moment, the front of the building exploded into a wall of flame, pushing the robot forwards with a wave of heat, and a ball of white-hot energy shot out from where Dan had landed and punched the robot squarely in the chest, knocking it to the ground with an earth-shaking thud and a long string of swear words and shouts.

As the robot struggled to get back on its feet, Phil watched the fireball dim to red and float down to the street, where it solidified into Dan and collapsed onto the tarmac.

Phil flew down and landed next to him, pulling him out of sight behind a wrecked car and crouching down to talk to him.

“Dan?! C’mon, babe, wake up,” Phil murmured urgently, bending closer. “Come on…”

Dan’s breathing was coming shallow and uneven, but after a moment he coughed harshly and opened his eyes, his face a mask of pain.

“Phil?” he wheezed, clutching at his boyfriend’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Phil assured him, stroking his face. “Are you alright?”

Dan’s grimace was answer enough. “Might have broken a rib or two, but apart from that I’ve never been better.”

Phil smiled slightly; as soon as Dan brought out the sarcasm, Phil knew he was going to be ok.

As Dan coughed again, Phil glanced over at where the robot had regained an unsteady standing position, pleased to see a significant dent in its chest where Dan had hit it. Phil felt a pull on his arm, and looked down to realise that Dan was trying to stand up. Phil helped him carefully to his feet and Dan clutched at his side, panting and wincing, but managed to remain standing.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Phil asked, keeping a supporting arm around his boyfriend and being careful to not put pressure on his sore side. Dan nodded jerkily, watching PJ’s robot as it limped back and forth across the street, apparently trying to recalibrate control of the feet. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he lifted the hand that wasn’t clutching his side to point shakily at the robot.

“There, on its chest.”

Phil followed his gaze. For a moment, he couldn’t see what Dan was pointing at. Then he saw it: almost in the centre of the cave-in, a small rectangular panel had flipped open to reveal a faint blue glow.

“What is it?” Phil asked.

“The source of his invulnerability,” Dan answered wheezily. “You know how you said he took that rock from the Egypt exhibit? One of the articles I found in the internet history was about Egyptian magic; PJ must have found a way to channel its power to make his robot invincible.”

“So what do we do?” Phil asked, pulling Dan back out of sight as the robot began to turn towards them, PJ’s voice calling for them to ‘come out and face me, you pussies’.

Dan winced slightly as Phil moved him, but when he spoke his voice sounded stronger than it had before.

“Destroy the stone. If we can take it out, I should be able to catch the robot on fire, and then we can take it down together.”

Phil nodded. “Alright. You stay here; I’ll deal with the stone…”

“What? No, I can help,” Dan interrupted, grabbing Phil’s arm.

“Dan, listen,” Phil insisted, “you stay here so you won’t get injured any more than you already are, then –” Phil raised his voice slightly as Dan tried to protest again, “I’ll call you when it’s vulnerable, and you can light it and we’ll take it down together, ok? I just don’t want to risk you getting hurt more unless we have to.”

Dan frowned at him sulkily for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But if you get hurt, I’m coming to help.”

Phil nodded in agreement, knowing that was the best he could hope for, and kissed his boyfriend quickly before flying out from behind the car and hurling himself at the robot.

PJ saw him coming and let out a harsh laugh. “There’s the little superhero. The one who corrupted my master.”

Phil dodged the giant fist that swung towards him, weaving around the robot and trying to find a way to get close to its chest without getting hit.

“Before you came, he was a real supervillain,” PJ continued, swatting at Phil. “He had his heart set on the destruction of this city and all its inhabitants. But since you turned up, he treats it like a chore. We still made our plans for the takeover, but for every step I took us forward, he took us two back through impulsive, pointless attacks. It almost seemed like he didn’t want our plans to succeed.”

PJ still hadn’t noticed that the Curse-Stone was exposed, and for a moment he lowered his arms, leaving Phil a clear path. Phil took the chance and bulleted towards him with one fist outstretched. At the last moment, PJ seemed to realise where Phil was aiming for, and he raised the robot’s hands to protect its chest, catching Phil on the shoulder as he barely managed to swerve out of the way in time. Phil spiralled downwards for a moment before regaining control and flying behind the robot and up to one of the nearby buildings, darting into a hole in the wall and hiding behind the edge with his back against the wall and his free hand clutching his injured shoulder.

As he lifted his super suit to inspect the damage, he heard the robot’s feet slamming against the tarmac as it turned around to see where he had gone.

“I suspected his change in behaviour had something to do with your arrival,” PJ called, his tone clearly indicating his intent of drawing Phil out into the open. “So when he was asleep, I hacked his phone to see where he had been recently, and I noticed his recent text conversations with someone called ‘Phil’.” More pounding shook the building, and Phil guessed that PJ was walking down the street looking for him. “Dan doesn’t have any other contacts, so I found it suspicious that he was talking to someone like a friend, so I continued to keep track of the messages, and pretty soon I figured out who you were. I’ve known about your secret relationship since almost the beginning, and it’s because of you that he’s lost sight of our goals.”

The thudding stopped, and PJ’s voice was alarmingly close when he next spoke. “I had to take matters into my own hands; I couldn’t directly oppose him, but I recently developed a way to make him do what I wanted. The drug I gave him when we attacked the museum was designed to erase certain long-term memories, like his relationship with you, and leave only the pain, anger, and desire for revenge. I didn’t intend for him to be caught, but in the end it acted in my favour: he was out of the way for me to continue on the path he set me on. I was planning to break him out once my creation was complete, and he would have been fighting with me. He would still see that what I’m doing is good.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, the wall behind Phil exploded, knocking him forwards as one of the robot’s hands reached in and grabbed him. Phil let out a cry of pain as his injured arm was pinned suddenly to his side, and the robot lifted him out of his hiding place and held him up in front of its face so that PJ was staring directly at him.

“But because of you,” PJ growled, “he has betrayed me and everything we worked towards. And because it’s your fault, you’ll be the one paying. And the price is your life.”

Phil gasped for breath as the robot’s fist began tightening around his chest.


	20. The Hearts of Heroes

Dan’s breathing sped up as he listened to PJ talk, the words flooding his heart and filling him with a fiery anger. He had reluctantly stayed hidden as Phil attacked the robot, but the moment its fist began crushing his boyfriend, Dan had to do something.

As the anger built in his chest, Dan didn’t even pause to think as he leaped into the air and rocketed towards the robot with a yell of defiance, giving PJ no time to react before he exploded against the robot’s chest, making it drop Phil as a shockwave burst out from the shattered Curse-Stone.

Wave after wave of ancient power echoed outwards, and Dan found himself thrown forcefully against a nearby building, sliding to the ground with his hands over his ears and eyes closed, a dreadful ringing shaking him right down to his bones.

After a few minutes that seemed to last forever, the echoing stopped and Dan was able to take his hands away from his ears. For a moment, he remained motionless. Then he saw Phil. His boyfriend was lying where he had fallen on the tarmac, curled up on his side in the foetal position and unmoving. Dan stood up shakily and stagger-ran towards him, collapsing onto his knees next to Phil and ignoring the mechanical groans and annoyed shouts coming from the robot, which had once again been knocked to the ground a couple of hundred yards down the street.

“Phil?” Dan croaked, carefully rolling him onto his back to get a better look at him.

Phil’s face was bruised and dirty, and a thin trickle of blood had drawn a line down his jaw from the ear that had been turned upwards; his super suit was torn on one shoulder, and beneath the rips Dan caught a glimpse of scratches and bruising from when the robot had hit him; but most importantly, his lips were tinged blue, and there was no rise and fall to the red ‘A’ splashed across his chest in the colour of fresh blood.

“Phil, please…” The roles had been cruelly reversed: now Phil was the one lying unconscious on the ground with Dan bending over him and trying to bring him back. Dan’s hands were shaking as he placed one on Phil’s chest and the other on the tarmac next to his head, leaning closer to put his ear to Phil’s lips.

For several tense moments, there was no movement; Dan’s heart was pounding painfully in his throat, and he felt as though the entire world had been reduced to the small bubble surrounding him and his boyfriend. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder at PJ’s robot, which was short-circuiting as it tried unsuccessfully to regain its feet. A snarl crept onto Dan’s face as he glared at it, anger burning away the emotionless cloud that had fogged up his mind for the last few minutes and giving him a clear view of the destroyed landscape of his life.

A slight movement below his hand wrenched Dan back to reality, and he snapped his gaze back to Phil, staring intently at his boyfriend’s chest to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

Dan’s hand twitched again, and then Phil’s whole body was abruptly shaken by violent coughing as he writhed onto his side, gasping for breath and retching. Dan sobbed with relief as Phil flopped back onto his back, panting heavily and with his eyes still closed, and placed his hand gently on Phil’s cheek.

Phil’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he squinted at Dan with a slightly confused expression on his face.

“Dan?” he gasped, coughing again. “Wh… what happened?”

“I… I destroyed the stone…” Dan answered, hesitating under the shock of the last few minutes. “It was a lot more powerful than I think either of us expected, and PJ was crushing you and I had to do something –”

“Dan…” Phil cut off his rambling, the confusion more prominent than ever on his face. “Why are you glowing?”

“What?” Dan looked down at himself, wondering if Phil was hallucinating after his shock. He wasn’t: Dan’s hands were indeed glowing with a warm yellow light, which was also emitted from his chest like a small beacon. “What!?”

“Wait a sec…” Phil pushed himself up on one elbow and reached out, and Dan didn’t flinch as he pressed one hand gently against the side that had caused Dan pain mere minutes before. “Your ribs…” Phil paused and smiled up at Dan. “They’re healed.”

Dan shook his head in confusion, gently pulling Phil’s hand away and replacing it with his own. “I don’t understand.”

“Your powers can heal, Dan. They don’t only have to be used for destruction.” Phil put a hand to his injured shoulder and pulled away the fabric of his super suit to reveal that the scars and bruises were fading. “You’ve healed me.”

Dan was silent for a few moments more. Then a slow smile spread across his face, but just as he opened his mouth to speak he was interrupted by a shout of defiance from behind him. Dan turned to see that PJ’s robot was back on its feet, sparking and stumbling slightly, its hands clenched into fists and PJ’s heavy breathing rattling with static. The robot’s eyes were glowing red, and for a second Dan’s gaze connected with the scrawny figure silhouetted within them.

Then PJ roared again, and the robot began charging down the street towards them.

Dan stood up and turned to Phil, offering his hand to help Phil do the same. Their wrist locked, and, with a third or fourth ‘final’ glance and their hands still linked, they launched themselves forwards to meet PJ head-on.

The sound of the two masses colliding echoed loudly enough to visibly shake every building within a mile radius. The robot was momentarily unbalanced, and Dan and Phil began attacking it relentlessly from all angles, darting around so quickly that the robot appeared to be surrounded by glowing atom shells. Although PJ lashed out furiously at them, Dan’s powers meant that nothing touched them. With Dan’s free hand blazing with white-hot flames and Phil’s punching at every inch of the now vulnerable cardboard that he could reach, the robot was soon staggering and wheezing mechanically, scars of flame eating up its outer armour and the inner mechanisms jolted out of alignment. It looked like it had just been through a flaming wood chipper.

Dan landed one last fiery punch in between its eyes, and with a metallic scream the robot fell to the ground and was still. Dan and Phil touched down next to it, panting as they watched a panel in its side slide open to reveal a metal passage leading to the centre of the robot.

They waited for a minute to see if PJ would emerge. When he didn’t, they glanced at each other worriedly; they hadn’t meant to kill him. Cautiously, and with Dan in the lead, they climbed inside.

The passage opened out into a control room the size of an average bedroom. The walls were dark metal, occasionally punctured by metal rods or pipes; one curved wall was covered almost entirely in computer screens showing visuals of various lines of sight around the robot, thermal scanners, and a diagram of the robot indicating where different sections of its armour had been damaged, although many of the screens were cracked or filled with static; the whole room was lit with a mixture of blue light from the monitors and the flashing red glow of various danger lights scattered around the walls; and in the centre stood a large skeletal mass of poles and wires.

Dan and Phil edged around in front of it, taking in the mechanisms that controlled the arms and legs and the limp figure of PJ that was strapped into them: hair and clothes singed; arms and face red with burns and cuts; whole body shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline. After a moment, PJ raised his head to look Dan in the face, his green eyes bloodshot and empty. They stared at each other in silence for a minute, then PJ spoke, his voice hoarse and faint.

“You were my hero, you know.” He glared at Dan and Phil’s joined hands. “I admired you because you had the ability to do the things I couldn’t. We had the same motivation, and coming to work with you was the best moment of my life. But you dropped everything we worked for to spend time with _him_ , the one we called our enemy.” PJ glared at Phil. “He corrupted you, distracted you from what mattered.”

“Don’t you _dare_ speak to Phil like that.” Dan’s voice shook with anger. “He didn’t ‘corrupt’ me. I chose to turn away. All Phil has done is make my life better and show me that there is still some good in the world.” Dan felt Phil’s grip on his hand tighten momentarily, but he didn’t drop his gaze from PJ’s face. “He opened my eyes where yours have remained stubbornly closed for so long.”

PJ’s head dropped against his chest. “Turn me in, then. Have them lock me up in your place while you walk free with the knowledge that you betrayed me.”

“Don’t worry, that’s exactly what I intend to do,” Dan spat.

PJ’s face was contorted with anger and hurt as he pressed one of the buttons on his control pad, causing the mechanisms holding him to open, spilling him onto the floor with a grunt as he struggled to find his footing.

“You bring him,” Dan muttered to Phil, who had stood watching the conversation in silence. “I don’t want to heal him by accident.”

Phil looked slightly surprised but nodded, letting go of Dan’s hand to grab PJ’s upper arm and pulling him towards the exit with Dan walking behind.

When they stepped out of the robot, a small crowd had gathered around the door, including Mayor Peters and Mr Barrack as well as several news cameras. Dan glared around at them all as he helped Phil with PJ before jumping down himself and addressing the mayor.

“There you go,” he gloated angrily; “this is the man who was in control of the robot and the attack on the museum. We’ve done what you wanted us to do; now you keep your end of the bargain.”

Peters glanced around nervously before lifting his head and saying clearly, “I clear you of all charges. You are free to go.” Dan raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise: considering how much Peters hated him, he was doing an admirable job of being the bigger man. As guards came forward to handcuff PJ and take him to jail, Phil moved to stand next to Dan and address the crowd at large.

“Dan and I are going to leave,” he announced, taking Dan’s hand. “We’re going to move to somewhere in the country where we can live together without worrying about people judging us or trying to control us.”

“You can’t leave!” Barrack called, pushing Peters out of the way to stand at the front of the crowd. “What if some other supervillain starts attacking the city?”

“Well then, you’ll just have to deal with them yourself,” Phil said forcefully, glaring at Barrack.

Dan smirked at Phil’s response, and Phil looked at him, his expression softening. Dan nodded subtly, and the two of them leaped into the air and flew back to Phil’s apartment.

When they got there, they shared a shower to wash off the grime of the battle and changed into some comfy clothes. The rest of the day was spent cuddling on the sofa watching shitty movies, both of them thinking about how much happier they were with the other in their life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one more chapter left, people! I will try my best to get it out within a week, but I want to make it as good as I possibly can so it might take a bit longer.
> 
> Also, just to let you know, to celebrate me getting 50 followers on Tumblr, I'm taking requests to write oneshots for any of the following fandoms: Phan, Harry Potter/Wizarding World, Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus/Kane Chronicles, Voltron, or a crossover.  
> If you like my writing and want a custom oneshot, please send me an ask on Tumblr @ky-thewolf by **June 21st 2018** with the fandom(s) and a brief description of what kind of plot/relationships you want, and I will write it :) Each oneshot will be up to around 1000 words, and the only plot restriction is no smut.  
>  Alternatively, if you don't have Tumblr but still want a oneshot, write a comment on **this chapter** and I will gift it to you when I post it :)


	21. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter than normal, but I really wanted this to be the last one, so here we go!

Dan darted around his bedroom, grabbing his stuff and throwing it haphazardly into a somewhat tatty rucksack. His few items of clothing folded carefully in a separate sports bag (where the fuck had that come from?) included two black T-shirts, a pair of black skinny jeans, a black hoodie, his ‘Blackfire’ bodysuit and a leather jacket, which, besides the T-shirt, jeans and combat boots that he was wearing, was all he owned.

Dan zipped up the rucksack and flung both it and the sports bag over his shoulders, casting one last glance around the bare room before picking up his leather coat from the bed, turning off the light and closing the door.

Dan walked down the hall to the computer room and rummaged around for any more of his things that he might have left in there. Finding only a few stray pens and random other bits of useless crap, Dan quickly packed his laptop, charger, headphones and wireless mouse into his rucksack, along with a memory stick that contained all the information from the computers. Dan had prepared it last night, dragging the files onto the memory stick and erasing everything from the hard drive once he’d copied it over. Dan had also cleared the internet history and made sure all his social medias were logged out; he knew if someone did search the computers that it wouldn’t take them long to dig everything up again, but he at least wanted to slow them down a bit.

Clearing everything had taken all night, but Dan had been too excited to sleep anyway. The prospect of that coming day’s events and what might happen afterwards had haunted him like some kind of weirdly happy ghost on a sugar high for the last five days.

Finally, content that he had everything, Dan left the computer room and went to turn the utilities off. The humming whirr of all the security systems shutting off made Dan smile as he pulled the breaker switch; it felt as though he was turning off that aspect of his life for good, leaving him free to start anew.

At last Dan picked up his bags and left, closing the outer door behind him for what he hoped would be the last time and setting off for Phil’s.

*

Dan received many shocked stares as he bought his ticket and sat down on the cramped bus with his bags. A pair of middle-aged women with armfuls of shopping bags began whispering behind their hands; a mother put a protective arm around her young son and pulled him closer to her; and a teenaged boy took several subtle photos of him, but Dan ignored them all and just pulled out his phone to play ‘Flappy Bird’ for the twenty minute journey to Phil’s apartment.

He had originally been planning to just fly to Phil’s, but he had never tried dissolving into flames with that much luggage before; it had taken him long enough to figure out how to do it with is clothes, and to be honest he didn’t think it would do his laptop much good. He was also afraid to try his ‘jetpack’ method of flying for fear of setting his bags on fire, so instead he had opted for the slower but easier bus, even if it did mean putting up with a lot of uncomfortable stares.

The bus pulled in at Dan’s stop a minute or so down the street from Phil’s building with a loud hiss, and Dan stepped off, giving the driver a friendly smile as he did so. Much to his amusement, the driver looked at Dan as though he had just punched him in the face, and as the bus pulled away Dan caught a glimpse of several faces pressed against the windows, watching him as he set off down the street.

Dan pressed the intercom on Phil’s building, and the door clicked and swung open to let him in. There was already an elderly woman waiting for the lift, so Dan hovered behind her. After a moment the woman turned to smile at him and asked, “Who are you visiting, dear?”

“Oh, uh, Phil… Lester,” Dan stuttered; he hadn’t been prepared to make small talk.

“Ah. He’s a nice lad,” the woman said, nodding, as the lift arrived. They stepped in and she pressed the button for Phil’s floor, presumably also her own as that was the only button she pushed. “Always polite and well-mannered,” she continued as the lift began to ascend. “He sometimes helps me carry my groceries up to my apartment if he happens to see me with them. I’m Janice, by the way.”

Dan smiled. “Dan.” After a brief panic about the fact that she was probably expecting him to carry on the conversation, he added, “Did you know he’s moving out?”

Janice looked faintly surprised. “No. But I haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks, so I suppose it’s not surprising that he hasn’t told me. Are you moving with him?” she added, eyeing his bags.

“Uh, yeah. We’re going somewhere in the country; get away from the city atmosphere, y’know?”

Janice nodded. “Yes. I was raised in the country, but I moved to the city when it became the trend in the 50s. I would move back, but I’m too old to uproot now.” She paused, and as the doors pinged open she added, “Well, nice meeting you, Dan. I hope you and Phil are happy together.”

She gave him a knowing smile, then walked away down the corridor. Dan grinned after her before heading in the opposite direction, to Phil’s.

Phil was on the phone when he opened the door, but he beckoned Dan in and closed the door behind him, giving his boyfriend a brief smile before turning back to his conversation.

Dan dumped his bags by the door and walked across the bare living area to sit on the sofa, moving a couple of boxes out of the way to make room for himself as he listened to the end of Phil’s conversation.

“Yes, I left it with Chris, so he’ll bring it in next time he’s working… Thank you, sir. You too. Bye.”

Phil hung up and grinned at Dan. “Well, that’s it. I’ve officially quit my job.”

“Well done,” Dan smiled, standing up and putting his hands on Phil’s waist to pull him into a kiss. “Everything sorted with your parents?”

“Yep. I’ve told them we’re gonna stay with them for a couple of weeks, and hopefully we’ll have found our own place by then.”

Dan blushed, burying his face against Phil’s chest. “I’m really nervous about meeting your parents.”

“What, why?” Phil pulled away slightly so that he could look Dan in the eye. “I know they’re gonna love you,” he murmured gently. “Just be yourself.”

Dan smiled at him and Phil grinned back, stepping backwards with Dan’s hands in his own and pulling the younger man into the open area between the lounge and the kitchen. “The moving van will be here soon. Will you help me finish packing the last few boxes?”

They set to work, and Dan told Phil about his encounter with Janice.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t think to tell her I was leaving,” Phil said, standing up from where he had been bent over a box.

“Don’t worry, I told her,” Dan assured him. “She said she hopes we’re happy together.”

Phil grinned. “Yeah? Did she say anything else?”

Dan shrugged, grinning teasingly. “That you’re a ‘nice lad’ who helps her with her groceries.”

Phil nudged him gently, then picked up his phone as it buzzed. He checked the message and typed a quick reply before putting it back in his pocket and turning to Dan.

“The moving truck’s outside. I’ve told them we’ll bring the stuff down to them.”

“And how do you want to do that?” Dan asked.

Phil beckoned him through to the bedroom, now empty except for the bed frame, wardrobe and several piles of boxes, and opened the double doors onto the balcony. “I was thinking I could fly stuff down from here.”

As Dan nodded, Phil added, “Where’s your stuff?”

Dan went to retrieve his two bags from the front door. When Phil saw him come back with them, he exclaimed, “That’s it?”

Dan shrugged. Phil ran one hand through his hair and sighed, smiling at Dan. “Wow. That really puts into perspective just how much crap _I’ve_ got.” Dan grinned back, and they began the slow process of ferrying the contents of Phil’s apartment down to the waiting lorry.

At first the removal people had been shocked to see Phil flying down from the top floor with two huge boxes in his arms, but once they realised what was happening they took it silently, taking the boxes from Phil and packing them into the lorry while Phil flew back up for the next lot. They had a bit of difficulty with the sofa and TV cabinet, mainly because they were bigger, heavier pieces of furniture, but eventually everything was packed safely into the lorry. The wardrobe, bed and a couple of other pieces of large furniture would be staying, as Phil had arranged with the landlord, but except for those the apartment was soon bare; a clean canvas, ready for the new inhabitant to decorate how they liked.

Quite a large crowd had gathered by the time they finished, many filming on their phones, but Dan and Phil ignored them. Phil carried Dan’s bags down while the younger man dissolved into flames and floated down, re-solidifying to land on the street and climbing into the back seat of the lorry next to Phil, grinning with excitement as he cuddled against Phil’s side.

“Where are we going?” one of the removal people, a woman, asked from the front. Phil gave them his parents’ address and sat back as the engine started up, putting his arm around Dan and letting out a contented sigh, excited to start the next leg of his life with his boyfriend by his side.

*

“Five minutes, mister.”

Phil was pulled out of his reverie by the woman’s voice announcing how close they were to his parents’ house.

“Ok, thanks,” he yawned, sitting up (as much as he could under Dan’s weight still leaning against him) and stretching. The younger man was still asleep with his head on Phil’s chest, and Phil shook him gently to wake him up.

“Dan, we’re nearly there, babe,” he murmured, smiling at his boyfriend as Dan stirred and opened his eyes.

Dan yawned widely, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Ugh, no,” he muttered tiredly, covering his face. “I look disgusting…” He began flattening his hair, using his reflection in his phone screen as a mirror.

Phil smiled, sending a quick text to his mum to tell her they were nearly there and then lowering his phone to look at his boyfriend. “No you don’t, you look fine,” he said.

In truth, Dan looked so much better than ‘fine’. In the early evening Sunlight shining through the window, Dan’s face was glowing with a pure, golden light, highlighting the shine in his eyes and his adorable dimples as he smiled back at Phil.

“We both know you’re lying, but thanks,” Dan murmured, going back to taming his hair.

Phil shook his head fondly. “Dan, honestly, it’s fine, you don’t need to smarten up for my parents. They’re used to me, after all.”

“Yeah, but I want to make a good first impression,” Dan argued, apparently satisfied with his hair and looking out of the window as the lorry began slowing down. “Oh, shit, are we here?”

“Yep,” Phil smiled, looking past his boyfriend to watch the passing houses, his eyes drawn ahead to where two figures were waiting on the verge.

Since Phil and his brother had moved out, Phil’s parents had decided to leave the apartment where their sons had grown up and move out of the city, to this smallish house in a pretty country village.

Phil had only visited them here once to check on them soon after they had moved, before he had met Dan, and the house was still unfamiliar to him as the lorry pulled up outside. Phil opened the door and climbed out, rushing into his parents’ waiting arms and hugging them.

“Hey Mum, hey Dad, how’re you doing?” he asked, pulling away to grin at them.

“We’re fine, dear,” his mum assured him, smiling back. “How are you?”

“Yeah, alright thanks,” Phil answered, turning to beckon Dan over from where he was hovering next to the lorry. “Mum, Dad, this is Dan,” he said, smiling encouragingly at his boyfriend as Dan walked over and stood next to him, nervously flattening his hair again.

“Hi,” he murmured awkwardly, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

“Hello, dear. It’s nice to meet you,” his mum smiled, holding her arms out for a hug. Dan obliged, glancing nervously at Phil as he did so. Phil grinned back at Dan as his mum pulled away and his dad stepped forward, holding out his hand to shake Dan’s.

“Alright, son?” his dad asked, also giving Dan an encouraging smile.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Dan murmured, evidently confused by his boyfriend’s dad calling him ‘son’.

As Dan backed up to stand next to Phil again, his dad turned to address Phil.

“We’ve cleared out most of the garage for you to put your boxes and stuff in,” he said, gesturing to the open roller door.

“And the guest bedroom is all set up for you,” his mum added.

Phil nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

His mum smiled. “If you need help bringing in the boxes, your father’s available; I’m going to go and get started on dinner.”

With that, his mum left, and the three of them plus the two removal people set about transferring everything from the moving van to the garage. Phil’s dad was surprised by the ease with which Phil carried two or three boxes at once (Phil remembered that it was the first time his parents had seen him since they found out about his powers, and was thankful to both of them for not bringing up Mr Amazing and Blackfire), and eventually the lorry was empty again. Phil paid the removal people, and the van left as Dan and Phil followed his dad into the house, bringing with them the last few bags, including Dan’s two and the couple Phil had packed with the essentials that he didn’t want to go digging through boxes for.

Phil’s dad showed them up to the guest room and left them to get settled. Dan dumped his bags on the double bed and moved to look out the window at the garden and the fields spread out in a flood of gold beneath the setting Sun. Phil opened the wardrobe and began unpacking his clothes into it, and the two men stood in comfortable silence. After a couple of minutes, Phil paused his unpacking and went to stand behind Dan, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“You alright, babe?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Dan nodded. “Just tired. Long day, y’know?”

Phil nodded. After a moment, he murmured, “I know it’s a bit awkward meeting my parents, but you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re important to me, and for them that’s enough of a reason to love you.”

“It’s not your parents,” Dan murmured. “It’s just…” He paused, sighing slightly, then continued. “I feel kinda guilty about PJ.” Sensing that Phil was about to interrupt, he rushed on, all his thoughts and fears from the last week spilling out at once. “I mean, technically, he’s right; I did betray him, and… he doesn’t deserve prison any more than I do, but he’s the one locked up while I’m free to move on with my life…”

“Dan,” Phil interrupted gently, “you have nothing to feel guilty about. Yes, you both did some… bad things, but you recognised that they were bad and you _repented_ ; he didn’t.” Phil paused, and was just about to continue when there was a knock at the door and his dad stuck his head in.

“Oh, sorry,” he said when he saw them. “Your mum says dinner’s ready,” he told Phil.

Phil nodded. “Ok, thanks Dad. We’ll be down in a minute.”

As his dad left, Phil rested his chin back on Dan’s shoulder; the younger man was still staring unseeingly out of the window. “Just… try not to think about it, ok? If you want to talk, I’m always here, but don’t let PJ ruin this for you, especially when he’s not even here, ok?”

Dan was silent for a moment more. Then he turned around in Phil’s arms and kissed the older man tenderly. “Ok,” he murmured, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.

The hug lingered for several moments. When they pulled apart, the look they shared was one of pure love.

“Shall we go get some food?” Phil suggested gently.

Dan nodded. “Yeah, I don’t want be rude when I’ve only known your parents for like, an hour.”

Phil smiled and held out his hand. Dan took it, and the two men walked downstairs together. They enjoyed a casual but nevertheless delicious meal full of light conversation and laughter, keeping their hands joined under the table for the whole time in a gesture of love and reassurance.

*

When Dan woke up the next morning, it took him a few panicked minutes to remember where he was. Judging by the faint grey light filtering through the curtains, dawn wasn’t far off; Dan reached across to the bedside table and picked up his phone to check the time – 07:29.

Phil was still asleep, curled up on his side and facing away from Dan. Dan climbed out of bed, being careful not to wake his boyfriend, and pulled on his jeans and T-shirt from yesterday as well as the hoodie from his bag. Then, he crept downstairs and let himself out the back door.

Phil woke up a while later, and was startled to find the other side of the bed cold when he rolled over. _Did Dan go to the bathroom?_ Phil listened for any tell-tale sounds, but the house was silent; his parents were apparently still asleep. Phil got up and pulled on a pair of trackeys and a T-shirt, but as he passed the window he caught a glimpse of a spark of light through the gap between the curtains. He pulled the curtain back to see Dan standing in the centre of the frosty garden with one hand on fire and the glow of the Sun peeking over the horizon and spilling onto the grass around him.

The back door squeaked as Phil slid it open and stepped out into the cold dawn air. Dan was still standing in the same spot, the only movement coming from the flickering flames in his hand. Phil approached him slowly, his feet crunching on the frosty grass, and when he was about a metre away he spoke.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Dan answered absently, his eyes still fixed on the flames in his hand.

“How long have you been out here?” Phil asked, shivering slightly and pulling his jacket tighter around his shoulders.

Dan shrugged. “Half an hour? Not sure.” He closed his hand into a fist and extinguished the fire, but his eyes didn’t move.

Phil stepped closer. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Not sure really.” Dan opened his hand again, and flames sprung up once more.

Phil smiled, moving closer again until his shoulder was pressed companionably against Dan’s. “You know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Dan turned to look at Phil for the first time and smiled. Phil grinned back, leaning in to give Dan a gentle kiss.

As they pulled apart, Phil shivered again, and Dan said, “Are you cold? Here…” He moved his fiery hand closer to Phil, concentrating until the leaping flames were reduced to a smaller, hotter mass. Phil smiled at him as he began to warm up, and they stayed like that for several minutes, taking warmth from the fire and each other’s company.

Phil’s mum called them in to breakfast soon after that, and over a plate of eggs and bacon they discussed plans for the day. Phil’s dad suggested going for a walk across the fields and around the town so that Dan and Phil could get to know the area a bit more, and in the end they decided that that would be a good, gentle first day to settle in with.

A couple of hours later they set off, wrapped up in warm coats and fluffy scarves except for Dan, who was wearing his normal leather coat and subsisting on the heat from his powers.

They walked for about an hour, conversation mainly consisting of what kind of house Dan and Phil were looking for and what they wanted to do while they were staying with Phil’s parents. Eventually they came to a viewpoint at the top of a hill looking over the village spread out in the valley below.

There were two benches there, so they all sat down, Dan and Phil on one bench and Phil’s parents on the other. They sat in silence for a while, and Dan snuggled against Phil’s chest, keeping him warm like a living hot water bottle. Dan looked up at Phil and smiled lovingly, and Phil returned it, a million unspoken messages passing between them.

Dan felt as though he had never been happier than he was right then: he had a boyfriend who he could be honest with; Phil’s parents had accepted him into their family without question, despite knowing of his powers and troubled past; he had finally been able to drop the nagging guilt about PJ that had infected his mind for the last week; and he and Phil would soon be starting a new life together.

At that moment, Dan had no idea about the small, velvet box concealed in Phil’s bag back at his parents’ house. He had no idea about the question Phil was planning to ask him that evening, or the intensity of the happiness that his answer would bring both of them. All he knew was that he had never been more glad of his decision to reach out to Phil as a friend rather than an enemy all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so, so much for reading, commenting and/or giving kudos! I'm so grateful for all the support this fic has received, and I hope y'all have enjoyed it as much as I have.
> 
> If you want to keep up to date with my future fics, follow me on Tumblr @ky-thewolf .
> 
> Also, I'm still taking requests for oneshots (see end of chapter notes on chapter 20), so please send me a message if you would like one :)
> 
> Once again, thank you so much to everyone, and I hope to see you again soon in a fic featuring witch!Dan and demon!Phil :)

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me your thoughts on Tumblr @ky-thewolf


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